


Partners

by Enchantedtalisman



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Assassin's Creed - Odyssey
Genre: Ass to Mouth, Come Eating, Come Sharing, Come Swallowing, Creampie, Developing Relationship, Eventual Smut, First Time (Anal), Fluff, Intact Penis, M/M, Major Spoilers, Men Having Gentle Emotions, Minor canon divergence, Nipple Play, Sexual Slow Burn, Sweet-tooth rotting fluff, self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-09-27 01:58:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17153153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantedtalisman/pseuds/Enchantedtalisman
Summary: Blades and muscles flashing, sweat glistening from the tips of his hair from the fire around them. He had been beauty and grace, a deadly predator and unstoppable. For a heart stopping moment, Alexios had actually feared for his life, and wondered if the man could break his guard.Now they are here, sweaty and breathing eachother’s air, a little too close for decorum maybe, but it’s not like Alexios hasn’t fucked more men than slept in beds by now. He knows where he wants this to go—and it’s not about a past that he doesn’t care for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Uneditted, still working on it because it was MEANT to be around 4-5k, and now is 12k and counting.
> 
> Save me.
> 
> In other news I love Alexios so much I just want to write so much about him but too many wips. Anyway I'm slowly shipping (haha get it) away at this, so depending on how quickly I write the ending (I say and then add another chapter) it may be a while till this is done but hopefully soon -crosses fingers-
> 
> Enjoy!

“You are Spartan.” Brasidas says.

Blades and muscles flashing, sweat glistening from the tips of his hair from the fire around them. He had been beauty and grace, a deadly predator and unstoppable. For a heart stopping moment, Alexios had actually feared for his life, and wondered if the man could break his guard.

Now they are here, sweaty and breathing eachother’s air, a little too close for decorum maybe, but it’s not like Alexios hasn’t fucked more men than slept in beds by now. He knows where he wants this to go—and it’s not about a past that he doesn’t care for. “Not anymore.”

“Hmm, but Spartans are always Sparta. It’s in their blood.” Brasidas says, a hand rises, dried crimson on his knuckles, and his fingers hover over Alexios’ chest armor where blades and spears had cut but not penetrated, “And if anything is proof enough of that it is our recent battle.”

Alexios laughs but it is cut off half way when Brasidas pulls him into a kiss. Slick and hot, Alexios isn’t a submissive partner but his mouth goes pliant under Brasidas’ assault.

Pulling back for just a moment, Brasidas says, “Now, what is this? Are you a Spartan or not?” He swoops in for another kiss.

This time Alexios’ wraps a hand around the back of Brasidas’ head, tugging on his hair, pushing forward and growling into the kiss.

Brasidas doesn’t yield for even a moment, moving against Alexios. Their armor cracks against each other, and their tongues battle. Lips wet and chins a little too slick for public acts of kissing, Brasidas’ beard and Alexios’ stubble only makes the friction and mess _better_ , but it’s one of the best Alexios has ever had.

Finally, when Alexios feels like his muscles are starting to strain, Brasidas falls in line, moaning into the kiss, eyelids fluttering. Arousal rises up higher and quicker, Alexios has never fought for a dominant position before but he _likes_ it, and even more so winning the battle of such a beast. He thinks he could do this for hours, days, but eventually his assault weakens and Brasidas is the one who takes over pushing Alexios until he trips and they tumble onto the ground. Lazy tonguing and heavy breaths follow, Brasidas licks in and out as if Alexios’ mouth is just another hole to explore, and Alexios claws at the back of Brasidas’ braid; enjoying every hiss and moment of weakness.

Only the sound of guards coming to the warehouse, no doubt in response to the blazing fire behind them, makes the two stop.

“Come with me,” Alexios says in-between panting breaths.

Brasidas stares at him and then huffs, a flicker of pain crosses his face, “I wish I could...I need time.”

Which is better than the _last_ man who had told him that he wanted Alexios, so Alexios, warily, nods. “If you break your promise I will cut you with my spear.” Alexios warns. He’s not about to have heartbreak again. Especially not after the last time. He wants a _relationship_. And the man is someone he thinks could be _it_.

Brasidas looks at him closely as if he knows exactly what Alexios is thinking and pulls him into one last kiss—the guards are getting closer, “I will find you, finish the Monger off and I have a few more tasks from my Kings. Then I will meet you.”

Alexios swallows down the doubt and nods.

 

Three days pass by while Alexios deals with the rest of the Hetaira’s requests. He’s dirty and his armor needs more than one wash; it is a _very_ good thing that he has more than one set of armor, but he is finally done. There is of course what to do with Monger but that could wait for now.

Even if the Hetaira’s leader wasn’t exactly happy about Alexios’ choice; but he stands firm, Brasidas doesn’t want the country to fall into chaos and Alexios can understand the man’s point. Killing the Monger in broad daylight is asking for trouble. After all, Alexios is good at killing and has done his fair share of public and private assassinations over the years.

Public bathing is out of the question if Alexios wants peace and quiet—everyone _love_ _s_ asking him about where and when he got his scars. So he finds a quiet brook that leads from the ocean-- the taste of the clear water is slightly salty but not overly so, and a simple camp fire allows him to warm water for his face and shoulders if nothing else. He’s relaxing and enjoying being _clean_ when the creaking of branches and twigs—so faint he can barely hear it at all, has him grabbing for his sword and his belt—groin shots are an easy target and he wants at least something between a blade and his soft parts.

Dark with shadows the crimson armor in the brush is almost impossible to see—if only because it blends well. The low fire does not help, but it’s enough to see the figure. Heavy set frame, more likely to be a man, though not necessarily. After all Alexios has fought many who were women with broad shoulders and slim hips, and men with a short stature and wide hips.

“There you are.” The voice is deep and rugged and so familiar. Enough so that Alexios’ groin warms even against the chill of cool water and air against his skin.

“I thought you wanted me to wait.” Alexios says, and ties the belt with care.

“You don’t have to get dressed for me,” Brasidas gets closer enough so Alexios can see him, he’s even brought two rabbits and more wood.

Alexios glances up from tying his belt and raises a brow, “You don’t get to see these goods until you’ve purchased them.”

Brasidas laughs and ducks his head. For the first time Alexios thinks he’s actually caused the man some shyness, his dark skin grows darker with a blush, and he says, “Ah, marriage? I didn’t expect you were that type of man, Mercenary.”

 _“Alexios_ ,” Alexios says pointedly and gets a grin for his efforts. He sighs and can’t help the little smile on his lips. Already his remaining weariness that the wash hadn’t pulled away is fading. Being around Brasidas is definitely a dangerous thing for his heart, Alexios decides, but not a bad thing.

Setting down the rabbits against one of the logs Alexios had earlier put near the fire, and throwing down the pile of kindling, Brasidas rolls his shoulders and reaches for Alexios.

“Why are you here?” Alexios asks again, side stepping Brasidas’ hands with a shake of his head. He thinks his loin cloth is still drying so he can’t crouch down properly but he still picks up his dry undershirt without too much difficulty.

A barely there chuckle and Brasidas presses against Alexios’ back, kissing his neck softly, “I have returned early because I was worried about you.” He admits softly, lowly, and it’s obvious that Brasidas cares. It’s not exactly like a Spartan soldier to bring up the softer emotions to a comrade. At least not a _close_ comrade.

Alexios’ muscles relax against his stubborn will, and he sighs against Brasidas, leaning into him, “So you thought I couldn’t handle this Monger?” He says a teasing tilt to his voice and he glances back to catch Brasidas exasperated expression.

“I _thought_ perhaps we could celebrate once you were done. After all I have done what I can for my Kings here. A few more assignments and I am yours for as many nights as you want me.” Brasidas nips at Alexios’ ear and thrusts against him.

Even with only metal and leather against metal and leather, it makes Alexios’ blood boil. He groans and palms an arm that is wrapped around his waist, “So sure of yourself are you?” He refrains from asking for _forever;_ he had done so with Thaletas and it had ended badly. He wasn’t up for another Spartan being afraid of forever, but that’s what Mercenaries were, fast passion and quick strikes. A Mercenary didn’t have time to wait for the third or fourth date because the first could be the last.

“Very,” Brasidas says and leaves one last warm kiss against Alexios’ neck before pulling away. He walks to the rabbits he dropped by the fire and glances back at Alexios, “It’s not quite a proper...outing, but perhaps you would like for me to cook for you?”

Alexios raises a brow, “Oh, is there a special Spartan way to cook rabbit in the wilds?”

“If you have the right spices.” Brasidas retorts a flash of white teeth and then he’s untying a pouch from his belt and holding up slightly cracked but still solid glass containers.

Surprised Alexios waves him to continue and watches for a moment as the fire grows thanks to Brasidas adding the wood he brought to it. The way the man skins shouldn’t be so...enticing, but clearly Alexios needs to find a masculine Hetaira if a man skinning a rabbit is appealing. He shakes himself from his meandering thoughts and finishes dressing. When he finally sits next to Brasidas he’s not expecting the soft kiss, or the quick barely there smile. His heart pounds in his chest and he exhales. He could live like this; _for this_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is curious the sword I use in this story and the one that my Alexios used for like 60% of my playthrough is Xiphos of Dionysos, because with it's hero strike ability it's...amazing. Hero Strike is so good for an Assassin oriented build (otherwise I'm very squishy in melee and no one has a good time).
> 
> Also I actually love this chapter, I love the whole story so far, but god, this is so sappy and I love it.

Alexios sees Brasidas one last time when the Monger’s head is cut through with Alexios’ blade. Their kisses goodbye had been the night before, this thing between the duo is...between _them_. No kisses or sweet nothings in front of the Hetaira; too dangerous. Agreeing on that is easy enough, information about lovers is a quick way to the Styx for people drenched under Ares’ banner.

A few days to fix his armor at the blacksmith, minor repairs in the field are not as good as a master of his craft with a forge, and then he leaves. His heart already slightly heavy with the loss of Brasidas at his side. From Korinthia Alexios takes his time getting back to his ship still at the port in Argolis, unless his crew has gone on a jaunty journey (which has happened _twice_ so far). Forts are a quick and easy way to make Drachmae and perhaps it’s spiteful but the Spartan forts get hit the hardest—every soldier he can find ends up dead by his spear and by the time he reaches Argolis his coin pouch is twice as heavy and he has more than his fair share of minerals, wood, and leather to comb through later.

Hopefully some of the more useless jewelry he found will appease his crew for the long wait too. Quite a few of the men enjoy the trinkets he finds as payment, considering he already gives them free food and board.

 

“Good to see you, Commander!” Barnabas says with a wide toothed smile when Alexios finally reaches his ship.

“Same to you Barnabas,” Alexios says wearily. He refrains from bringing up the fact that his sails look a little tattered—like Barnabas has taken the ship out of port. Or the fact that when he sets down his spoils no one takes any; talk of Alexios being _too generous_.

 

Arriving on Hydrea, a small island near Argolis, Alexios doesn’t find much. Suspiciously he feels like he’s being _watched_ but he can’t find anyone—even with Ikaros’ keen eyes.

What he does find? A young woman, perhaps five years his junior, training.

Joining Roxana for training is easy enough, first dueling and keeping his blows gentle enough not to break bone with his staff is difficult but worthwhile exercise, even more so while avoiding her blade. In the end he narrowly avoids a neck slice and sends Roxana to the ground.

The flirting the young woman does is _slightly_ vexing, Alexios after all is purely a man’s man, and even if he _was_ inclined towards women, he has Brasidas waiting for him—or is he waiting for Brasidas? Either way he tries to be patient and pulls away the instant she asks for a _warm night_.

That is when the feeling of being watched intensifies and Alexios finds himself ambushed in the woods leading back down to the tiny town in the center of the Island.

“Alexios.” Brasidas says.

Alexios’ shoulders relax minutely and he raises a brow, “Brasidas, what are you doing here?”

“Cult activity.” Brasidas admits freely.

“Really?” Alexios asks, suspicion tinging his tone and good humor filling his mind. Because the watchful feeling he’s had all day is gone now, and Ikaros had been too calm all things told. Brasidas has been the eyes following him, Alexios is almost completely sure of it. “On this small island?”

The older man winces as if caught out, “The island you will be heading to actually. I had intended to ask around for a sparring partner—as you know you need someone to vouch for you.”

“Like Roxana,” Alexios nods, he had seen several individuals training alone or with another partner. Though few and far between on this island it was still notable.

“Like Roxana,” Brasidas agrees with a tilt to his tone that leans towards disgruntlement.

Amused, Alexios takes a step towards Brasidas and raises a hand to hover over his cheek, “Are you asking to train with me, or jealous that I found a training partner?”

Brasidas huffs, “Neither.” He lies badly when teased it appears. His eyes are narrowed and arms crossed. But he still presses his face into Alexios’ palm.

“Hmm, of course.” Alexios says and then kisses Brasidas softly, “There is no need for fevered anger, I denied her request.” He says and notes that Brasidas relaxes almost immediately. “I have no desire to spend time with anyone but you,” Is a hard sentence to form but say it he does, and Alexios waits tensely.

“Good, I agree.” Brasidas replies and then loops his arms around Alexios’ waist and kisses him soundly.

 

Eventually after trading a dozen or so kisses, Brasidas does leave to find a sparring partner. The worry for the man is heightened—Alexios isn’t about to kill the man, Drachmae or not, but he’s seen the man fight. There shouldn’t be any trouble but the worry still lingers.

And if Ikaros comes and goes throughout the next day and a half, and let’s Alexios use his eyes, well, only the three of them know.

 

Side tracked by some pirates off the coast of Lakonia keeps Alexios from reaching Melos early. Three full ships worth of treasure, blood soaked staff and sword, and a days worth of fighting leave him achy and sore but his crew is content with their spoils and he made the area a little safer for merchant and civilians alike.

Melos, he finds out, isn’t quite ready for their one hundred battles just yet; two months time the man that makes Alexios’ sixth sense tingle with suspicion, says.

So, Alexios embarks once again and this time heads to Messara which he hadn’t expected to be so large or have so many things to do but. Clearly the Greek World truly does need a Mercenary of his caliber. As usual he delivers with a bit of snark and exhaustion and blood dogging his steps.

From a little boy offering a tour for the Minotaur (a trap, _of course_ ), to helping a woman deal with some bandits, and a man trying to bring a couple together (which ends in tragedy). Alexios doesn’t even realize it’s been several weeks until Ikaros drops down with a letter attached to his leg.

“Something for me?” Alexios says and bites back a grin at Ikaros’ grumpy stare. “Yes, I know you only have messages for me.” He rubs a finger under Ikaros’ beak and silently promises to get the eagle some fish the next time they pass by a stream or river big enough for fishing.

The letter is from Barnabis dating the time and month and how long it’ll take to get back to Melos; a week and a half with good weather, and no distractions which is as likely as the sky being green, and so Alexios turns back to where his ship last docked and rides Phobos at a quick pace. The road is clear of bandits and no soldier or mercenary bother him—he handled the last bounty sufficiently with a quick arrow to the forehead.

 

Melos is relatively the same as before, other than a crowd that’s cheering widely in front of a man that _still_ makes Alexios feel uncomfortable. But, there is no other way to enter without speaking to the man, Drakios if Alexios recalls the name right, a very distinguished upper class Alexios is sure, and highly suspicious.

“Ah, yes, the one who trained with Roxana? She has such a pedigree, it’s a shame all of them died.” Drakios says in a tone of voice that sounds far too sugary sweet.

Alexios gives the man a flat stare and tilts his head, “The competition?”

“Right! Right! You were almost late you know, it’s starting in an hour. Go on head to one of the gates leading out of the city.”

With a nod, Alexios leaves without trying to show that he’s leaving to get _away_ from Drakios. He glances briefly through the bustling crowds. So many warriors all different genders and weapons and builds. He can’t see Brasidas but a quick nudge of his shoulder—the one Ikaros is resting on, and the bird lets out a quiet affirmation. That settles at least one worry, Ikaros will look out and after Brasidas and Alexios will win the competition.

Like most competitions that Alexios has observed while traveling through the greek world (the few that he’s seen at least); there are those who talk shit, those that are quietly focused on themselves, and those that look ready to wet their pants. A select few try to catch Alexios’ eyes but Alexios doesn’t let them even gain that much for their attempts at feeble intimidation. After all, he’s fought far worse than a man with only a rusty spear at his side or a woman who’s a foot taller than him.

Finally, “The Battle of a Hundred Hands is ready to begin!”

Cheers, some from the warriors themselves, fill the air and Alexios’ blood starts pumping. He is a mercenary but the thought of fighting so many people all at once… Eagerness and disgust fill him in equal measure.

“Go!” A voice yells.

Alexios moves forward, moving easily through the crowd and dodging less than honorable blows before they even pass the gates. He makes it in and takes the path with some brush—not that it’ll help much in the grand scheme of things but it should slow any pursuers who aren’t adept at traversing the wilds. Considering the type of battles these are and the training Roxana put them through, he doubts those that are here are used to using the terrain to their advantage.

The first combatant comes at Alexios from above a cliff. Dodging to the left, Alexios pulls out his bow and aims and fires in a moment. He misses—the person is faster than Alexios expected, but Alexios rolls to his feet and notches another arrow to his bow.

“Prepare to die!” Is yelled at the top of their lungs. A sword that shines in the sunlight is raised before they rush towards Alexios.

Alexios shoots the arrow, and it cuts through the air and into the poor man’s eye straight through. He has no time to grab for another arrow, and has to dodge a strike from the right.

A silent individual, not many of those in the areas that Alexios has traveled. Instead of crying out or taunting, they slam their shield forward in a _Bulls Rush_.

Thrown backwards, Alexios feels the impact of rock against his back and groans. His bones don’t break, but it _feels_ like it for just a moment. He has no time to assess, barely pulling out his sword and blocking a dagger from descending.

“Die mercenary!” The person yells, they shove, pushing the sword closer till the point draws a hair’s breadth away from Alexios’ face.

“I-” Alexios grunts and keeps a steady hand holding the sword away, “-would rather not.” He grabs for his spear and spins away, a scratch across his forehead bleeding profusely and at least a chunk of hair from the right side of his head missing—he can already tell it will take months for it to grow back to it’s original length. His spear slides into his opponent’s side with a slick sound and he cuts savagely.

Partially from almost losing his head, but truthfully, because of his hair.

A brief touch and wipe of a clean cloth against the wound and Alexios decides the rest of the fight should be done from the shadows. Perhaps not the most _honorable_ way, but Alexios has been a Mercenary first and honorable fighter second.

 

Killing isn’t uncommon to Alexios, even in great numbers. But fighting during a War. For a _purpose_ isn’t quite the same as...fighting this battle. It leaves a foul taste in his mouth there is no running because if he tries to let a weakened foe go another takes them down mercilessly.

Whatever Roxana called this battle, it’s tarnished in Alexios’ eyes by the time his kills reach thirty in number. He doubts there are many more—maybe a straggler who’s fled. At least one or two boats have left port and from the size of them they are no more than one person on them each.

A voice echoes through the island but Alexios can’t hear it. Even with Ikaros’ eyes it would be easier to head towards the voice. Which is at the center of the island where the whole thing began. He hurries and _hopes_ Brasidas and Roxana got through alive if this is the end of the fighting.

 

It takes Alexios an hour to reach the center of the island once more. The sun is high in the sky leaning towards the west, and he is covered in sweat, dirt, bits of flesh and organs and dried blood. Some of the blood his own, but most of it others.

Alexios is relieved to see the gates but also nervous at the lack of survivors. Had he become the champion alone? He swallows tightly and feels his heart beat double in speed. He has never hoped more for an advisory to be equal in his skill and ability until now.

“Well done,” Drakios says, and he doesn’t even look like he’s taken a step outside of the gates. Clothing still fresh and smile still unsettling. “All three of you.”

Freezing, Alexios inhales and turns and feels his heart tumble.

Proudly, Brasidas and Roxana stand there. Both just as covered in blood as Alexios, but a quick scan shows no serious injuries. At least as far as Alexios can tell.

“Brasidas, Roxana.” Alexios grins with bared teeth.

“Survived? I was worried.” Brasidas says teasingly and clasps Alexios’ hand and pulls him into a hug.

Alexios slips just for a moment and plants a soft subtle kiss against Brasidas’ neck before glancing quickly at Roxana who doesn’t seem to have noticed.

Brasidas chuckles against his neck and whispers too low for anyone else to hear, “Do I get a reward for surviving through your worries?”

“Shut your mouth.” Alexios growls and then pulls back and nods at Roxana.

Roxana smiles and offers a hand that Alexios clasps but they don’t hug. “I am not surprised you survived, Alexios. You were quite the training partner.”

“You as well.” Alexios offers. “Though this battle was...far more merciless then I expected.” He admits.

A cough behind them turns the three Champions away from eachother and to Drakios, “Touching but we have one final part to this battle of a hundred. Meet me at the southern portion of the island when you’re ready.” With that and a keen focused look on Alexios Drakios leaves.

“Whatever happens, Alexios, it was good—the training, the fight.” Roxana in turns says. She disappears into the cheering and excitable crowd before Alexios can reply.

When Brasidas doesn’t speak, Alexios turns and raises a brow, a quip ready on his tongue. Then he sees the solemn look on Brasidas face.

“I was late because I scoured the battlefield. Not a hint of the cult.” Brasidas says leaning forward so none of the still lingering people or guards can hear.

“You think the Cultist fled?” Alexios curses his soft heart, if he let a cultist flee he will never hear the end of it.

Shaking his head, Brasidas nods towards where Drakios’ had left, “I suspect he is quite nearby.”

Cultists _did_ like positions of power. Bloodshed. Violence. Gold. Alexios sighs and nods, “It makes sense.” He looks towards the south, not that he can see the islet that connects to this main island from this distance but… “You should leave.”

An affronted look is what Alexios gets in reply. “I am not afraid of him or any other Cultist. I am Spartan.”

Alexios scowls, “But we have no idea how this will _end_.” His voice rises sharply at the end and he’s still pulling back his anger when Brasidas grips his arm and steers him away from the suddenly quieter crowd. Just their luck if Drakios’ learns of their quarrel right before the last portion of this contest.

Steps quick, passing by people who are possibly more drunk than sober, only when they are under a trees branches and yards away from the bustling crowd still cheering does Brasidas continue speaking, “That is not a reason to stop me from completing my tasks.” He grimaces at whatever he sees on Alexios’ face, “Have you already forgotten how we met?”

How could Alexios forget?

The heat, the fire. Blades shining in the light. Back to back and tandem attacks that felt like Alexios’ soul string had been wrapped around Brasidas’ own. _Aphrodite_ , Alexios pretends he hadn’t just thought that.

“From Aphrodite’s bosom and Ares’ helm.” Alexios blurts out and wonders which is worse, his eternal thought of soulmates or his comparison to a demi god.

Brasidas lips part and he stares at Alexios. He ducks his head sudden and quick looking, for just a moment, not at all like a strong brute warrior. A chuckle leaves his lips short and breathless.

Alexios ducks his own head and rubs at his face, “I did--”

“I--” Brasidas starts and they stop and stare at eachother. “I would say the same of you but with Athena’s grace and Zeus’ rage.” He admits softly.

Burning Heat fills Alexios’ cheeks, chest, and shoulders. A smile plays on his lips and he leans forward, “I suppose than I must let you do what you need. How could I disrespect a warrior of Ares’ such as yourself?”

Brasidas rolls his eyes and pulls Alexios into a rough kiss that has their teeth clacking against eachother.

Neither of them arrive to the Islet early.

(Quite the opposite)

 

Most of the islet is grass and stone. The meeting place is the same with a stone foundation that has some blood stains, barely visible if not for the second glance Alexios gives the area. Roxana stands waiting with calloused fingertips tapping heavily against her sword’s hilt.

Drakios and two guards are there as well. Brasidas walks in first, and Alexios is relieved that no one questions his slightly flush faced or swollen lips. The marks of teeth and bruised skin on his neck is a little harder to hide but easier to explain; not that they had done more then kiss like newly weds— _no_ , Alexios immediately stops that thought before it can go any further, explaining, the bruises and teeth marks are not so hard to expand upon, right that is what Alexios is thinking of.

Men do vicious and unexpected things when facing death. Not the most likely scenario but Alexios _has_ fought a few mercenaries who had tried to bite his neck off before. Shaking his head, Alexios waits ten minutes listening to Roxana grumble about Alexios being late, and Brasidas calmly watch Drakios, the guards, and even Roxana with keen eyes.

Ten minutes pass far too slowly. Once the time has passed, Alexios bursts at a run into the clearing, heaving for air in a feigned attempt to look rushed.

“Finally.” Drakios sneers. “We shall begin the last competition, a duel to the death. Since our last was so late a three way fight.”

Alexios scowls, “We do not need to do this at all. There is no more need for bloodshed.” He looks at Roxana and Brasidas, “The Drachmae is not worth a friends death.”

Roxana frowns, her hands at her side grasping at air, “I need to win back my family’s honor, Alexios. They strived so hard for this. I said I would die for this prize.”

“Then we shall bow out.” Brasidas says sharply. “A win by default.”

“No. You cannot or you all forfeit.” Drakios interjects a little too quickly, a little _too_ sharply.

Alexios grinds his teeth. “Then we will take you on.” He growls, “Do you think you can handle the three champions of your hundred battles? All for Drachmae?”

What happens next is almost too quick for Alexios to see. The guard to the right of Drakios throws a knife at Roxana.

Brasidas charges into the guard, Roxana dodges with a familiar two step that she had not mastered in training.

Drakios raises an axe to Brasidas’ back.

Alexios rushes forward, heart pounding and blocks the blade with his spear shaft. Newly strengthened wood creaking alarmingly against the edge. His other hand reaches for his blade.

“Alexios, watch out!” Roxana calls.

The other guard’s spear is too close to dodge, but then Brasidas is there shoving it away and slamming his own spear through the man’s gut.

“Pay attention, child.” Drakios hisses, “The cult will have your blood.” He pulls back the axe and it’s only long practice that stops Alexios from tumbling from the sudden lack of resistance.

Axe raised high, Drakios swings his blade forward.

Alexios spins away, and hears the clang of metal against metal. A brief look and he sees Roxana’s shield holding the axe at bay.

“Pathetic, three cannot defeat me?” Drakios roars, spittle flying out of his lips.

“So arrogant, as all of you cult members are!” Alexios fires back. He draws his own sword, gleaming in the light in a way that’s not truly natural. He charges forward and has his first blow blocked with the axe.

Kicking forward, Drakios sends Roxana away in a tumble. Brasidas soon follows but instead barely ducking a decapitation.

Another slice of his sword, and Alexios has it deep into the meat of Drakios’ shoulder. Twisting it is almost too easy, he presses a line down Drakios’ neck and turns his face from a spray of blood. “Like all the rest of you vermin, dead.” Alexios shoves the dying man away and ignores the heavy axe slamming into the ground a few inches past Drakios’ head.

“Well, done.” Brasidas breathes, standing up and rolling his shoulders.

“Yes.” Roxana agrees, sheathing her sword and walking up to the cooling body. “We can split the reward--” She rummages around his body and pulls out a bag weighted with Drachmae, Alexios doubts it’s all of it, but it’s quite enough to make Roxana’s arm strain.

“Keep it. I only have need of a simple item he must be carrying.” Alexios says.

Roxana frowns at Alexios and then Brasidas when he agrees with a nod. “Are you sure, this is quite a bit of money..I do not see why I should earn it all.”

“I am well paid.” Brasidas admits.

“Pirates.” Alexios shrugs, and ignores the heavy gaze Brasidas gives him. He hopes it’s not because the man has heard about all the forts and national chests he’s stolen from. That would be...awkward.

“Fine, both of you are crazy but...thank you.” Roxana briefly rubs at her face and Alexios doesn’t bring up the wetness against the palm of her hands. She hefts something else and throws it at Alexios.

Brasidas catches it lightning speed, and his face is a firm mask before he realizes what he is holding isn’t a weapon but a glowing orange triangle.

“That’s what you are looking for, right?” Roxana asks, a small smile on her lips.

“Yes.” Alexios takes it from Brasidas with a simple nudge of his fingers against warm skin and smiles at the man and then Roxana. “Thank you.”

Roxana nods, “I hope we meet again and do not cross swords then.”

“Athena guide us so we do not do so.” Alexios murmurs in agreement and watches her go. “A little over protective, hmm?” He teases Brasidas when they are alone.

Brasidas scuffs and knocks their shoulders together.

Alexios grins at him.

Minutes pass while they stand close to eachother. Their shoulders a warm point that connects them.

Only when the sun starts setting does Brasidas finally say, “With another Cultist down I shall have to go.”

“Shall I have to beg to see you again?” Alexios asks.

“Only if I meet Hades first.” Brasidas says and kisses Alexios’ cheek before starting to walk out of the clearing.

“I will drag you from the Styx itself if I must!” Alexios calls and grins at Brasidas’ laugh and retort; “I would expect nothing less from the Eagle Bearer!”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one was a hard chapter to write because I completely forgot Naxos, I'm not sure why but those parts of AC are very hard for me to remember. So I had to wing it a little bit.
> 
> Sidenote, the fourth chapter may come out in a few days considering the fifth chapter is nowhere near done and I'm undecided on if I'll write up to Kass' return or not.

Barnabas and the crew are asleep when Alexios finally returns. A suspicious scent of wine makes it clear that they were partying. He sighs and spends the majority of the night deciding on what to do next.

Unlike his hearty crew that only has to worry about the sea, pirates, and Barnabas’ unsanctioned trips; Alexios has much to figure out. While tempting to immediately set sail back to Messara, there are other tasks he needs to complete. Such as finding his mother. The arena that he has yet to find—a good reason to go back to Messara, more Cultists than he would like to admit to needing to kill, and his sister—wherever she is.

Pirates, requests by civilians that need a mercenary, and an assortment of other odds and ends that can probably wait. Like dealing with these so called beasts of legends. Those tasks can _clearly_ wait. Alexios still has a scar across his back from that damn colossal Hyena.

“Haven’t slept a wink, have you boy?” Barnabas groans in the early hours of dawn.

“Some.” Alexios lies and gets a _look_ for his efforts.

“Of course, Commander. Rather I think I will take command until there is something urgent. You can take my bed.” Barnabas offers and somehow manhandles Alexios out of his seat and settles him into the bunk that Alexios rarely ever uses for himself. “Sleep.”

Alexios tries to voice a complaint but the wily man is gone before he can get one word out. He must be tired if he can’t win a fight. He sighs and settles in.

If trouble comes, he’s sure to hear the yelling.

 

“Get the Commander!” Is yelled loud enough that Alexios jolts from sleep.

Arrows thud across the hull and Alexios praises Apollo for the foresight in updating the ships defenses. Another thud of arrows fills the small room by the time Alexios is on the ladder leading up.

“Commander!” A man no older than twenty says in surprise, clearly just about to head down.

“ _Move_.” Alexios says, and restrains himself from pushing the man away. He will learn but being mean right now won’t endear the new hand to his Commander. He heads quickly to the wheel of the ship.

Three ships, and each bearing a pirate emblem. No—the largest carries it’s own emblem. Alexios checks his connection with Ikaros and sinks into it for only a moment. It’s enough to sense the Cultist aboard the ship.

“Commander! This is no time for sight seeing!” Barnibas spins the wheel, “Speed! Avoid the ship it will ram us soon!”

“Not sight seeing—it’s a cultist.” Alexios scans the horizon once more and orients himself. Ikaros and his own point of view are jarring.

Over the raging of the ocean and the cries of battle, Alexios shouts, “Arrows ready! Aim at the smallest!”

Dozens of arrows and bows lift up and turn to the left.

“Steady!” Alexios calls and barely notes when Barnabas and he switch his hands grasping the familiar wood of the wheel like an old friend. “Fire!” He yells.

Arrows break into the smallest ship, splintering wood into the ocean. Not a fatal blow, but a severe one. “Once more!” He turns the wheel and glances at the other ships, “Shit! Down! Brace yourselves!” He ducks and drags Barnabas with him. Grimacing when the sounds of men hitting the deck happen moments later. Maybe two dead but still more than he would like.

Alexios raises his head when the arrows stop and takes another sweep of the waters.

The smallest ship has drifted closer or intentionally moved closer. “Aim the Javelins! Fire!”

Javelins fill the air and down the ship goes.

The next smallest ship dies a quick death as well, then there is only the largest one left. “We are going to board that ship men!” Alexios calls, and sees two of his Captains cheer fiercely—the lesbos pirate captain that he took on after her lover died, and a man that used to work for Sparta—it’s a good thing he’s not just good in bed or Barnabas might have proof to his Alexios only highers pretty men as Captains claim.

“Commander, they are throwing fire at us!” Barnabas shouts, ducking down almost right after the last word.

“Shields up!” Alexios roars and joins Barnabas crouched down. Whistling catches his attention and before two arrows can reach them, Alexios’ sword cuts through them both, and he stomps on the flaming debris. No need to start a fire up here.

The deluge leaves five more men down. “Damn them.” Alexios mutters and stands and forcefully turns the wheel towards the ship, “Get ready to ram them!” He yells.

Barnabas, as always, knows when to shout for the rowers to, “Speed up!”

Water parts in front of their ship in swaths, and Alexios steadies himself twice against the wheel. His ship reaches top speed only moments before they crash into the enemy. “Duck!” Alexios cries, he can see the damn archers already, he spins the wheel to the left, and grabs his bow and several arrows.

“Alexios,” Barnabas sounds absolutely scandalized, but he should be quite used to Alexios’ antics by now in truth.

Instead of ducking, Alexios focuses his eyes and bows on several enemies on the other ship. With how fast his own ship is moving he doubts he can get more than four or five enemies down but he fires anyway cutting the enemies crew by one, two, three, _four_ , _five_ , _six_. He ducks as another barrage of arrows comes from the opposing ship.

“Keep your heads down!” Barnabas roars at the crew.

No time to see the loses or mourn them, Alexios has his archers fire another round as soon as they have a good position. The volley’s continue and steering the ship _just right_ takes longer than he would hope.

“The ship can’t take anymore of this Commander.” Barnabas says, clinging to the railing. Fires have been put out but even the sails look tattered and much of the wood is charred and creaking alarmingly.

“Rowers, one last time!” Alexios shouts and is relieved when his crew cries in determination.

They meet the Cultists ship with a crash, and Alexios grins when he boards the ship. He doesn’t even need more than a few blows with the Cultist before the man is crushed by a _Hero Strike_ , his staff breaking the Cultist’s skull, and a spear to the chest confirming his kill. “One more piece, and one more step closer to...” To _Kass,_ to _mother_ , and to _Brasidas._

 

Having already done several of the necessary investigations into his mother’s past, Alexios has things figured out. He thinks. It’s not exactly like he _knows_ for sure, but Naxos is the best place to search for a woman going by _Phoenix_ , and it’s where the Pirate Xenia had indicated that his mother required more. What more than a distant island away from the Spartans who had taken everything from her?

A guess, but it was _something_. Better than the hell he had gone through to deal with Athens and Phoibe’s death (if he had been fast enough, if the damn woman hadn’t allowed Phoibe alone, he was bitter and jaded). His sister was still angry but at least she seemed more interested in avoiding him than killing him.

So, Alexios heads forth and after minor stops to replenish supplies, fix the ship, and give a moment for those who were still gaining their sea legs, they were off. Ikaros at least enjoyed the sea air and fresh fish, and Barnabas had plenty of tales to keep Alexios occupied. When he wasn’t sorting the information and top priority assignments and missions to complete.

Naxos is...unexpected. A vibrant city meets Alexios’ eyes and he disappears easily—hood raised to hide his features—into his few crew members joining the crowd. For several minutes he explores the odd stall market, listens to the complaints about propaganda idly but quickly loses focus when Ikaros _tugs_ on his mind.

Ikaros’ eyes flicker from Alexios to the surrounding area, mapping out Naxos with ease. And—there, glowing gold with importance is…

“Mother.” Alexios gasps, surprise pulling him out of Ikaros’ mind. He’s sure of it, Ikaros’ abilities are odd—such as the ability to _see_ through walls, but he knows that the leader of this island is his mother. Speaking inside of a building with several others. It takes all his restraint not to rush up the hill and to her house.

Barging in is no way to handle this.

So, Alexios settles himself, and is grateful when Ikaros lands on his arm. Petting the eagle always calms his nerves and today is no different. No need to worry about treats either, “You will get fat if you keep eating fish every hour.” Alexios teases, rubbing a knuckle against Ikaros’ belly.

Ikaros squawks and almost bites Alexios’ finger before flying off; leaving barely there scratches across his forearm.

With a roll of his eyes, and a smile on his lips, Alexios turns to his mother’s...house. What an odd thing to realize; that his _mother_ has a house here, and he—he can’t start thinking about it now, or he will lose his resolve. For just a moment, Alexios desperately wishes Kassandra had been convinced, he’s sure having his sister here would help.

 

Opening the leader’s door takes more effort than Alexios expected. His whole body is trembling, and he is grateful for Ikaros’ solid press against the back of his mind. He slides inside and rests his back against a divide that keeps him hidden while his mother speaks.

Orders, possibly, it’s hard to hear with the blood rushing through his ears. Her voice—Gods above, how had he forgotten how she sounded like? She sounds exactly like when she was training him but better, because it’s not a worn memory that’s distorted, but fully— _real_.

A woman passes by his hiding spot but says nothing. The body language is well enough, she will have his guts if he tries anything.

Alexios remains quiet, waiting until he hears the faint rustle of his mother’s sandals and edges out to watch her walk out to the balcony. Swallowing around a lump in his throat he stares at her back before settling on a slow, quiet walk.

Grey is in her hair. She wears cloth like a Queen, and her stride is strong—no limp or wariness at first or second glance. Good, she’s not visibly hurt at least.

“If you need anything else you will have to give me a moment. Meetings all day and I just need...” Myrrine says, takes a deep breath in, exhales slowly, before turning and startling. “Who—You--”

“Mo-Mother.” Alexios chokes out, hands up and helpless to say anything more. She looks a little like Kassandra, and Alexios admits, there’s something about her eyes and face that reminds him a little of himself.

“A-Alexios? No! He—how dare you!” Myrrine pushes forward and a hand clamps under her cloth—a dagger, Alexios thinks blearily—and points a finger at Alexios’ face, “You dare bring up my dead child? Some sick joke of the cult or Sparta?”

That makes the fire burn bright in Alexios chest and he growls back, “It’s me! Alexios, see--” He pulls out the spear and ignores the dagger that’s suddenly in front of his chest.

Myrrine freezes and stares at the spear, “How...” Suddenly the dagger falls from slack fingers and it’s only Alexios’ deft hand that stops his mother from killing herself by rushing at him—wrapping her arms around his middle and crying. “Alexios, my son, my baby.” Her heaving sobs are oddly _comforting_.

 _She cares_ , Alexios thinks, and he had _hoped_ that she did. After all everyone seemed to think that she had lost two children from _her_ accounts but...there had and still is a tingle of doubt. “Why didn’t you look for me?” He gasps and only then realizes that he’s crying too, great unrelenting breaths that leave him without air and in pain.

“I could not find you, I feared the fall had killed you. I searched for the pair of you and only found...” Myrrine rubs a hand across her face and rubs fruitlessly at the tears there. “My baby Kassandra half to the Styx and dead by the time I reached the healers who could help her. Both my children dead, or so I thought. But you are alive! My Alexios!” She smiles through the tears at Alexios.

Alexios lips upturn for a moment before he shakes his head, “Kassandra, she is not dead.”

Myrrine stares at Alexios, “N-no, they said. She was dead, dead—no!” She breaks free from Alexios’ hold and frantically turns around.

“Kass is alive, with the--” Alexios starts, determined.

“The Cult.” Myrrine nods scratching at her face so hard red marks appear before she seems to rein in her emotions. “We must have her back.” She tells Alexios, turning back to him, and even though her movements are calmer, her eyes are red and tears still leak from them.

“Yes, my thoughts are with yours.” Alexios says in relief. He had worried. Nikolaos had moaned about his failures, accepted death, and hadn’t wanted to _try_ to make up for Alexios and Kassandra’s hurts. He feels _almost_ foolish for expecting the same from his mother.

A smile that makes warmth fill Alexios’ heart appears on Myrrine’s face and she pulls Alexios into another hug, “I will not lose you two again.”

“Neither will I.” Alexios agrees, and holds on as long as he can. The moment when this breaks he will have to ask about his real father—a whole hurdle he doesn’t want to contemplate at this moment, and get back to dealing with the cultists and somehow saving Kassandra.

Eventually they do part and Alexios rubs at his cheeks while Myrrine is kind enough to clean her own face and turn away. They still looks like they have been crying—Alexios can feel the tear tracks and how sore his eyelids are, but neither of them mention it. Instead, Alexios rolls his shoulders and says, “I met Nikolaos.”

“Ah,” Myrrine’s eyes darken and she turns away. “How did that end?” Hinted at is what she expects of Alexios, and he wonders if it’s visible on his face—the urge for revenge, or if she wants revenge herself.

“With him claiming he needs to find himself.” Alexios mutters viciously. Bitterness fills him in that moment and he _misses_ his father. Not the supposed one that never showed up when his mother raised Kassandra and Alexios, but _Nikolaos_ the man who taught him how to wield a spear.

Grim, Myrrine pulls Alexios into another hug and doesn’t mind his renewed tears, “You were strong for not killing him, Alexios. He was misguided by the Oracle. I am proud of you.” She murmurs into his hair.

They don’t ever actually speak of Alexios’ birth father until after several hours of hectic fighting on the beach and plans to protect Naxos. When Alexios learns about _where_ his father is he is somewhat glad. A man more interested in learning than his own family? He has very low expectations.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Several things, but hey at least no matter how much I write in this A/N, it won't be as long as this chapter;
> 
> 1\. Later on when we actually get to the smut (I'm being an asshole and going as slow as possible ngl, I like sexual tension though I haven't written it a lot so who knows if it's a good kind?), I will add to the tags 'intact penis' and if some of you haven't read my other works I'm gonna explain it here and copy/paste it when I add the tag and get to the smut chapter; I consider any non consenual mutliation of the penis (i.e. circumcision at birth) entirely fucked up, and I don't care if it's based on religious beliefs it's not your body the person should get the say not their parents. So I don't use 'uncut' penis because it implies that the intact penis is somehow worse. Which there isn't, regular cleaning, and condoms prevent any chance of a partner from getting ill from bacteria build up, and sti's are just as perceptible with or without a foreskin if you're not using protection. (No I don't wanna argue about my view points on circumcision so don't start anything in the comments, it's exactly the same as cis str8 men trying to control women's bodies, no one deserves to control anyone elses body. Even with consent in bdsm relationships there's just limitations on it man.)
> 
> 2\. Chapter Five somehow turned into another chapter where it's long as fuck and didn't end so now there is a chapter six. Save me from my own ideas and desire to keep this a slow burn for the happy ending lmao.
> 
> 3\. I love this chapter it is my baby. I love Brasidas/Alexios so god damn much.
> 
> That is all.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it! <3

Alexios thinks it’s the Gods’ amusement at work here, all he wanted was to have his mother, and sister back (his father deserved a good punch in the face before he could sit at their table again; and he rather not think about his birth father—the man had better have a damn fine excuse for being gone so long), and here he was. Trying to save his mother from Assassin’s and making Naxos safe enough for her interim-people so she could leave.

At least the Assassins’ were easy enough to dispatch. Several arrows and _Athena’s_ blessed senses and they were down. Clearing out the fools who were trying to cause propaganda, and then dealing with breaking down Paxos’ own government. Admittedly, Alexios does enjoy stealing from a treasury, nothing like getting a thousand drachma and splitting a tidy sum to his crew.

Very few have ever betrayed the Adrestia, and part of it is Alexios and Barnabas inspiring loyalty, and the other was the perks. Alright so Alexios had had a few quitters, but he understood that having flaming arrows and javelins thrown at a person could scare even a hardened mercenary when there was no where to run.

Killing the soldier’s and destroying war supplies come next—after taking a few supplies for himself, after all, equipping himself and his men can get quite expensive. Surely, it would be a waste to burn all of it. So he takes what he can and burns the rest and breaks and steals the weapons with impunity.

After that is finding Myrrine’s Captain, someone meant to do peace work, if Alexios remembers right, but he doubts it considering he finds the ship broken and a lone survivor who dies after he gives his message.

Like several of the Quarries that Alexios has...visited, there are a swarm of soldiers. Many enough to make him decide to go for a stealthier approach. All he needs;

Someone is near his body, and Alexios is quick to sever the connection between his eyes and Ikaros. He goes for his blade and spear, turning quickly. Only to find Brasidas raising his hands and Alexios’ spear point at his neck.

“Not exactly how I imagined your spear penetrating me.” Brasidas murmurs with humor even while being threatened.

Alexios scuffs, but can’t help the grin or the soft kiss.

Weeks—no longer, have passed since he’s seen the man and Brasidas strengthens the kiss until he’s pushing Alexios into the rocky cliff near them and plundering his mouth.

Their tongues are slick across eachother, warm and gasping tiny breaths. “I would fuck you right here if I could.” Brasidas growls, and it makes Alexios groan against him. He has yet to even see Brasidas fully naked and he _yearns_.

“Who said you will fuck me?” Alexios mutters back inbetween kisses. Ikaros is still connected to him enough to know they are safe for the moment—his senses still mostly focused on Brasidas and the hard muscle against his hands and chest where flesh does not meet armor.

Finally they part when Alexios’ cock hurts against his loin cloth—thankfully his gear is made of softer linens—meant for stealth rather than straight out combat, and it is not as painful as some of his previous aroused-moments. Layered leather is not the best for such things. He can tell from the wince of Brasidas that the man’s own armor is not as lenient.

“Why are you here?” Alexios asks, when he’s dabbed at his lips and given up on the swollen heat and beard burn staying. He will just have to hope the return trip will allow his advanced healing to kick in. Before his mother sees.

“Ah, is that how you greet your beloved?” Brasidas asks leaning in and smirking at Alexios sudden fluster.

“Shut your face.” Alexios growls back, shoving a palm against that very same handsome face.

Laughter fills the air, and it’s only their distance that stops a patrol from hearing them, Brasidas kisses Alexios palm and gently pulls it cup his own cheek. “I am here, because another Cultist.”

“Of course.” Alexios wonders if there will be an end. They seem to grow like fungus, unending rot to the bones of Athens and Sparta.

Brasidas taps Alexios chin, “Ease up on that melancholy, I am still here in your arms. In your bed too whenever you are ready.” He says it with such ease as if it hasn’t been several months since the first kiss and yet they still have not touched lower than their bellies.

“You are far too patient a man.” Alexios murmurs. He gets a kiss in reply.

“What exactly are _you_ doing here?” Brasidas asks.

“I have to free a man for my mother. A captain meant for peace talks.” Alexios nods towards the direction where he had pinpointed the Captain. Ikaros was a blessing many times over and he was always grateful to the Gods for him.

“Then I shall help you, beloved.” Brasidas says with a grin that’s oddly endearing considering how fierce and _Spartan_ it is.

Alexios doesn’t push Brasidas’ face away but it is _tempting_. Instead he clasps their fingers together and pulls Brasidas into one more kiss, “Let us send them to Hades, and pray that Eros and Athena watch over us both.”

“Spending too much time with Athenians, hmm?” Brasidas teases, and that’s when Alexios decides to _Leap of Faith_ down into a pile of fronds.

 

“Unbelievable!” Brasidas hisses at him when he climbs down like a normal person.

Alexios raises his arms out and up, a shit-eating grin on his face, and then presses a finger up to his lips. Still swollen—why isn’t the advanced healing working when he needs it too? This is just like when he broke his leg and Nikolaos found out before it healed.

After a heated look that implies trouble, Brasidas and Alexios split up, taking down the enemy soldiers with efficiency that makes it feel like running free across the plains. Rarely has a stronghold, as much as the quarry is a stronghold, fallen so easily but even the Captain cannot handle their might and is distracted by Brasidas’ blade and falls to Alexios’ Spear. Which he throws and appears with incredible speed forward. He has yet to know _how_ the spear allows him to move so quickly as if he’s moving like Hermes himself, through time, but he enjoys the astonishment and heat in Brasidas’ eyes. The admiration is absolutely heady.

The last stragglers are cleaned before both of them return to the prisoners cells.

“W-who are you?” The man in the cage asks.

“Your rescuers, any chance that you are Euneas?” Alexios replies, glancing at Brasidas who is on the look out. Strange to have someone who can look out who’s not a bird.

Ikaros squawks loudly and _mentally_ and Alexios winces in pain.

 _Sorry, Ikaros_ , Alexios thinks at his eagle before paying attention to the man nodding.

“Yes but I am. Myrrine sent for me? I never thought I would be rescued so quickly.” Euneas says.

“Well, I am quite good at my job, and I had help.” Tilting his head to Brasidas, Alexios kneels and unsheathes his sword. A quick sawing motion and the ropes keeping the cell door closed break apart. “Come now, we should hurry, there’s more to do.”

“Like find that damn Cultist.” Brasidas says, joining them.

“Exactly.” Alexios agrees, with a little frown. Once the Cultist is dead Brasidas will once again be gone, and who knows if his mother will stick around. His family and lovers seem to always vanish or leave him, or Alexios has to continue his journey.

“Alexios?” Brasidas calls from the edge of the nearest cliff.

During his momentary lapse of thought, the two have already taken steps to leave the camp. Alexios shakes those thoughts from his mind and joins them, with the injured party it takes some time to get out of the camp but with the camp looted and gutted of infantry it’s not hard to take the Captain to safety.

 

“I shall come with you,” Brasidas says when they reach Alexios ship, “If you will have me,” He winks.

Alexios sighs.

“Aye, lad that sounds lovelorn!” One of the older men on the ship yells out.

The gaggle laugh uproariously.

“Don’t laugh at Alexios’ love! Even Aphrodite herself would be impressed by his virtues!” Barnabas defends him, or tries too.

All it does it cause the crew to laugh even more, and make jokes about Alexios _virtue_.

Brasidas is no better, lips twitching and chest rumbling with a stifled chuckle.

“Yes, you can come.” Alexios says and should have picked his words more carefully.

Because Brasidas grabs him by the waist and _dips him_ the _bastard_ , and says lowly against his lips, “I will, whenever you are ready, come for you.” In such a tone that it’s obvious what really means.

And, maybe, Alexios hopes with a flush across his cheeks, he means it just as he said it. Either way Alexios doesn’t mind throwing Brasidas onto the ground and walking onto the ship.

At least this time the laughter is aimed at Brasidas.

“Is it always like this?” Euneas asks warily following Alexios up the ramp.

“Not always.” Alexios says.

“No, there is much more danger when Alexios is at the helm!” Barnabas cheerfully interrupts.

Alexios sighs and rubs at the bridge of his nose. He spends the next five minutes reassuring Euneas that Naxos is hardly more than a few hours journey and nothing will happen.

Brasidas, once he gets up, is unsurprisingly unhelpful.

An hour into sailing, Brasidas requests a moment of Alexios’ time. The crew nearby makes loud lewd remarks that cause the whole ship crew to start calling out.

“Ey, go on you two love birds! Let Eros’ love blossom inside you!” Barnabas yells, clearly not understanding the innuendo he once again throws out.

Alexios flicks off his crew and leads Brasidas down into his own quarters. They are tight and cramped and the bed is unmade from the last time Barnabas clearly cleaned it but didn’t bother keeping it in order.

With quick steps Brasidas claims the bed with a far too elegant flop. “Ah, I am far too old to sit in the winds full of water and salt.” Brasidas groans stretching far too attractively on Alexios’ bed.

Alexios crosses his arms and rolls his eyes. Leaning on one of the wooden walls and trying to keep his mind focused. Which is hard when Brasidas’ hairy belly appears from under his armor. “I thought you said you were a Spartan? Do all Spartans complain like you do?”

Brasidas tilts his head towards Alexios and hums. His face grows serious.

Focused instantly, Alexios’ own expression grows grave, “Brasidas?”

“We should discuss that--”

 _Bang_.

The whole ship shakes and shouts from above draw Alexios and Brasidas’ attentions. Grinding his teeth, Alexios says, “We will continue this later.”

“Yes. Agreed.” Brasidas is quick to his feet and right behind Alexios when the mercenary races to the ship’s deck.

Barnabas is yelling orders, and shouting for archers to let loose their fire arrows.

“Barnabas?” Alexios shouts, taking the wheel with an easy familiarity when Barnabas let go of it.

“Pirates, Captain! They came at us from behind us. Perhaps hiding near Paros’ shores.” Barnabas replies.

Javelins whistle through the air towards them.

“Down!” Brasidas yells.

A warm hand settles on Alexios’ waist a second later, pulling him down, and a shield’s shadow settles over him.

“I don’t need protection,” Alexios says mulishly when he realizes it’s Brasidas and not Barnabas who pulled him down.

Brasidas huffs against a blow from a javelin, the tip beating the shield slightly but not breaking it, “I can’t let that pretty face die, especially when I have so many things I want to do to it.”

“Flatterer.” Alexios dryly responds, and clambers to his feet. Two ships as far as Alexios can see. “Fire Javelins!” He yells to his crew.

Trained as well as they are, and having lived through so many fights across the sea, his crew is quick to light the Javelins. Just as they are ready to let them loose another volley of arrows appears from the Pirate ship to their left.

“Shit, everyone down!” Alexios bends his knees quickly and this time takes Brasidas with him.

“Now who’s protecting who?” Brasidas teases.

“Is now really the time, Commander?” Barnabas interjects.

“There’s always time for flirting.” Alexios answers, and winces at the sound of two choked off gurgles. Someone hadn’t dodged or ducked under a shield.

The trio get up again and Alexios turns the wheel. If he can do this right...The ship to their left is in perfect position for Javelins, and the one to the right is now in front of them. “Perfect.”

“Get ready to fire!” Brasidas calls, “Now!”

Javelins fill the air, flames gone from their tips thanks to the need for cover, but they still do damage breaking apart planks and pirates flesh.

“Good eye, Co—Brasidas.” Barnabas says.

“He does have a good eye.” Alexios agrees, and continues loudly to the crew, “Increase speed!”

“You are going to ram them?” Brasidas asks, close once again to Alexios. His breath warm and distracting against his ear. “Will your ship hold?”

“Are you implying something about my ship?” Alexios spins the wheel and…

They break the pirate ship apart, almost too easily, the remains of the ship at close range are clearly not in good repair.

“I spoke too soon.” Brasidas says, sounding impressed.

“Alexios takes good care of this ship.” Barnabas says from the other side, thankfully not as close to Alexios.

“Let us not celebrate quite yet, there is one more ship.” Brasidas says.

“Not for long.” Alexios turns the Adrestia and calls for his crew to raise their arrows. From this angle it’s a tricky shot but the other ship takes the hit.

Another volley from the pirate ship that leaves several planks and a good chunk of the sail gone. “Speed up!” Alexios yells to his rowers. They grow ever closer to the ship, the waves crashing against wood, and the boards under their feet creaking alarmingly.

“Quickly now! All of you, push forward!” Barnabas encourages the crew.

Wind whips several of Alexios’ braids free into unwound hair, and the next volley of arrows misses them by inches, thunking into the wooden chest where Alexios keeps unneeded armor and weaponry. Like Nikolaos’ sword.

“That is a bigger ship than the last.” Brasidas says warily, shield still half raised above their heads, when they are only a few yards away.

“Aye, it won’t crack as easily as the first.” Barnabas answers.

Brasidas’ grumpy huff is audible to Alexios and hot against his neck, “Not what I meant, Alexios, Alexios you are not going too--”

Alexios is able to flash a grin at Brasidas for just one second before the Adrestia plows into the pirate’s ship.

Yells and screams are heard from the other ship. A loud creaking fills the air and it looks almost ready for a boarding.

“Javelins!” Brasidas says, and he truly is a Spartan, falling quickly into the battle rather than letting the fear of the previous action take him down for the count.

Javelins cut down several of the pirates, and push the ship to a stand still, it will fall into the depths of the ocean once they are done cleaning it of resources.

“Will you join me?” Alexios asks Brasidas, enjoying the flush on the man’s cheeks. Sea battles work for the man.

Brasidas nods, lips slightly parted.

Alexios smiles and raises his sword, “Men! Begin boarding!” Shouts fill the air and his men slam the floor with their fists before tapping their chests in a rhythm.

Just before Alexios leaves the ship he _swears_ he hears Barnabas say to someone behind him, “Aye, you have it bad, lad.”

A running leap has Alexios landing onto the other ship, rolling to carry the momentum, and coming up to dodge a swipe of a spear. He parries the next blow with his sword and slices the pirate’s head off cleanly in one spin.

Ikaros cries out above them, and Alexios _knows_ that there’s a man behind him. He moves quickly to the right, dodging the blow and slamming his pommel towards the latest pirate’s head.

Said pirate dodges and soon Alexios is engaged in a series of dodges and parries that leave them breathing heavily. A lieutenant or at least someone of import on the ship, Alexios can tell from just how good they are.

But, Alexios is better, and has adrenaline pumping through his system, he slides to the side, and slashes forward and then cuts across the man’s chest slicing through the armor and digging into flesh and bone. A step and Alexios is behind the man and sliding his blade into the man’s neck. _Hero Strike_ complete, Alexios exhales and grins in triumph.

Most of the others have finished off the weaker men, and someone has already defeated the other lieutenant. Now all there is left to do is handle the Captain--

Tumbling towards Alexios, a man—no Brasidas, appears rolling to his feet and bleeding from several cuts.

“Alright there?” Alexios asks, taking a position to Brasidas’ right and checking his spear and sword—nothing broken or chipped (not that the spear has ever looked anything other than pristine after he used that odd forge on that island).

“Ah,” Huffing, Brasidas glances at Alexios and rubs an arm against his nose, “Remembering my sea legs.”

“Let me help you,” Alexios’ voice goes husky.

“I would enjoy that.” Brasidas’ own voice grows deep and they spin away from the Captain’s frontal attack, their movements syncing as if they have fought hundreds of battles together.

The Pirate’s sword form is formidable, he defends against both Alexios and Brasidas’ first three strikes easily. Not showing a hint of wear or tire.

Alexios spins under a slice that could have cut his scalp clean off, and raises his sword in an upper slice.

Brasidas distracts the Captain with several strikes that clang loudly with each parry and blow.

Which allows Alexios’ slice to hit and slide through the armors inch opening. Blood pours from the wound.

“Fuckin’ Bastards the lot of you!” The Captain roars at them, and goes for Brasidas jugular.

Alexios is quick to strike at the man’s back, and Brasidas parries the enraged blows far more easily.

Both of their blades meet inside of the Captain’s neck.

Brasidas grins at Alexios, “Well done.”

“You as well.” Alexios says, breathing heavily and wiping at the blood on his face with his forearm.

Getting the minor loot from the ship, Alexios and Brasidas disembark before the ship meets it’s watery death.

“That was a rather exciting battle, Commander!” Barnabas greets them, blood leaking from a scratch across his shoulder.

“Alright there, Barnabas?” Alexios asks, frowning at the wound.

Not one to take in the fight, Barnabas usually stays well clear of all arrows and projectiles that could possibly reach the ship.

“Aye, aye, just a spot of trouble, some tried to escape on our ship.” Barnabas holds a very familiar spear that Alexios knows is supposed to be in their (now) somewhat broken weapon-armor chest.

“I am glad you are well.” Alexios says instead of pointing out that Barnabas wasn’t known for his weapons work. At least the man was alive and well, some cloth and water should do well for the wound.

“What about you, Alexios?” Barbnabas asks, pointing at Alexios head.

Alexios frowns and touches his fingers against his forehead, blood comes away and he grimaces at the pain. “Eh.”

Then Brasidas is up close and personal, moving Alexios’ hair and pulling out a cloth that at least has more white than brown dirt but it’s not exactly something Alexios wants on a cut.

“I am fine.” Alexios tries to grab Brasidas’ hand but the man is quick, pressing the cloth against his forehead and then licking his thumb and rubbing that against his wound. “Brasidas.” He hisses, scrunching up his nose.

“Do not worry it isn’t that large. You will have one more scar under your hair.” Brasidas says.

“What do you mean under my hair?” Alexios checks the spot again, pushing away Brasidas’ hands for a moment to run over clearly shorn hair. “Malaka, I should have done more then cut through their neck. It will take weeks for it to regrow.”

“You still look wonderful,” Brasidas says far too sweetly.

“Hmm, truly?” Alexios asks, raising a brow.

“Very much so. So much I would bed you a thousand times.” Brasidas cleans the last bit and even kisses the wound.

The Crew hoots and hollers, “Getting soft on us, Commander?”

“How could he not with that type of Spartan treating him like that?”

“Back to your spoils all of you, or you’ll join my next sparring session.” Alexios calls back, trying to be disgruntled but he can hardly do that when his heart feels like it’s going to spin in his chest. Spartans aren’t exactly known for their softer emotions, but in front of his whole crew, well, Alexios can hope this means Brasidas wants more than a few months of companionship? Not to say they have even _done_ anything under their pants yet, but Alexios can’t help think that as soon as they do…  
“Aye, let me take you to bed.” Brasidas says, and before Alexios’ stomach can drop he continues, “You should rest and I will neaten up your hair so it doesn’t look like absolute shit.”

“What a wonderful thing to say to the man you want to bed.” Alexios says dryly, but follows along willingly enough.

Both of them find the Commander’s cabin missing a few pieces of plank wood and burnt areas, but nothing too dangerous to sleep in for the night. If they _are_ going to sleep. Alexios settles on the bed when Brasidas indicates too, and really isn’t expecting the man to pull a knife and start trimming his bangs.

A moment or two of quiet fill the room, before it drives Alexios mad, “You don’t want to fuck me?” He asks feeling flustered and confused. Hadn’t he just said he didn’t want this relationship to be about sex? Not that he doesn’t _want_ sex, he very much does. He just wants _more_ , _commitment_.

“By the gods, since I laid eyes on you.” Brasidas says so promptly that Alexios has little doubt of the validity.

“Ah,” Alexios cheeks heat.

“Yes,” Brasidas clears his throat, and then kneels in front of Alexios, “Do not worry I have much planned for you and I, but for now. Let me clean up that raggedy hair.”

“Raggedy? At this point you will be lucky if you ever see my cock.” Alexios obediently ducks his head closer to Brasidas even with the haughty tone.

“Hmm, that would be quite the shame. I have heard a great many things of the Eagle Bearers Spear.” Brasidas says with such a neutral tone that Alexios bursts into laughter. He swiftly pulls the knife away from Alexios’ forehead and sighs, “Please, allow me to work. Than we must talk for a moment.”

“Yes, yes of course.” Alexios settles and allows Brasidas to continue to work. Still feeling nervous and wondering about this pending _conversation_. Gentle fingers pull Alexios away from those possible thought and he let’s himself feel joy at the tenderness Brasidas shows. Just for a moment.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this and chapter six were very hard to write, and I'm still working on the sex scene in chp 6 so it might take a while ( I'm very critical about my own sex scenes lately).
> 
> But in the end this story was intended for my self indulgence so I'm gonna not worry about if some of the themes are painfully obvious or super reptitive because the pining and sexual tension was kind of the point.
> 
> But! I hope you all enjoy, and just as a note, I have turned on moderated comments, I can turn back anon comments but for now I'll leave it this way--so if anyone is shy and wants to comment but not have it public I will just hold onto it and not approve it for posting (but you have to tell me that's what you want or I wont'be able to tell).
> 
> <3

Brasidas takes his time to shear Alexios hair, and they never do get to have that talk. He seems to hesitate on the words and fumble in a way that Alexios hadn’t expected a man of Sparta to do so.

Even the damn man who broke his heart for Sparta (the _liar_ ) hadn’t fumbled as much.

But it makes Alexios add to his certainty that Brasidas does care, even, perhaps, deeply.

They clean their wounds, and Alexios makes sure Brasidas wounds are cleaned and kissed softly with every bandage wrap.

“You spoil me, Beloved.” In that soft tone of voice, Brasidas cannot mean it as a joke and Alexios admits in the privacy of his mind that he might have fallen even deeper in love with this majestic man. But if the answering besotted smile is any indication, Alexios face hasn’t hidden the truth of the matter.

Sweetly kissing Brasidas goodnight, they wear soft lioncloths that are arousing and leave little shape hidden but the battle has drained them both.

Alexios settles his hips against Brasidas and moans against his chin when their cocks press cloth to cloth. “Fuck, why can’t we fuck again?” He mutters a hand going to Brasidas full ass. Eros, it’s one meant to be fucked and to be held onto while being fucked.

“I believe it is the fact that we are both injured and you want to take it slow.” Brasidas laughs at Alexios sudden stillness, “Alexios it does not take a master philosopher to see you have been injured within yourself rather than physically. I shall wait till you are ready, beloved.”

Bittersweet joy fills Alexios and he presses his face against Brasidas’ neck. Futilely trying to hide his tears that rain down on the man’s shoulder. “You are my beloved as well.” He whispers and then clamps his lips against Brasidas’ bare skin.

Brasidas rubs a large calloused hand against Alexios’ back and holds him tighter and whispers back, “As if I could ever think otherwise. You love and work with a fervor that could make Ares shake.”

A giggle breaks out of Alexios mouth and he pulls back to kiss Brasidas’ on the lips. “Hmm, and when Ares tries to strike you down, what will I do?”

“Fight him, of course.” Brasidas says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“I would,” Alexios admits, breathlessly. Heart pounding in his chest and body tense.

“And I would for you.” Brasidas replies.

Exactly the response Alexios had hoped for. This time the kisses are wet with happier tears. Somehow, they are even better than the dry tears.

And, at the very least, Alexios knows Brasidas also cried.

 

Only a few hours seem to pass when Alexios and Brasidas are awoken. Barnabas and the others must have reached Naxos before they even dined to wake them.

The ship itself is dry docked and there is a rowdy commotion from the markets. Familiar enough that Alexios knows it’s his men from long experience. It’s no surprise that so many people _know_ when the Eagle Bearer is around. All they have to do is listen to his crew. Who have, unfortunately, obtained Barnabas’ taste for story telling.

“Ah, we should speak.” Alexios says, stopping Brasidas from reaching the ramp to disembark the ship.

“Yes, we should.” Brasidas agrees.

Alexios frowns, “You have something to speak to me with?” He knows it’s _irrational_ but suddenly he fears. Perhaps he had spoken too much? He had done the same with another spartan—but _no,_ he couldn’t compare every single lover to eachother or their reactions.

“Yes, but this may not be the best moment.” Brasidas admits and then brings Alexios’ knuckles to his lips, “Do not fear, I think you will enjoy the news.”

“Hmm, I will wait to see.” Alexios says, “But I do have news that may...cause friction and no not the good kind,” He adds when he sees the glint of humor in Brasidas’ eyes. “My mother is the ruler on this island.”

“Ah, that...is awkward.” Brasidas admits.

Immediately, Alexios presses a hand against his forehead, “Please tell me you did not bed my mother.”

“W-What? No!” Brasidas sputters, lips puckering instantly afterwards, “I have heard of her, what was done to your family was a tragedy, Alexios, that is all I meant.”

“Oh,” Alexios clears his throat, “Of course.”

Brasidas raises a brow, “Why in the name of Eros would you think I...bed your mother?”

“Ah,” Alexios again, clears his throat, “I met a pirate who excitably mentioned my mother’s...virtues. I feared for a moment I would have a repeated conversation.”

“No, I have never even thought of bedding anyone from your family except you.” Brasidas nods towards the Market, “Now let us get a cup of wine to forget this conversation and then...”

“My mother will want to know that we survived with the Captain.” Alexios says, grateful for the reprieve of the previous blunder.

“Yes,” Brasidas nods.

 

With their, and the crews, new spoils from the pirates it’s no wonder that they get treated well. It’s perhaps also what keeps most of the cities Alexios visits from conspiring against him until he does something visible. You can’t exactly call a Mercenary on someone who’s making the blacksmiths and tailors happy.

Alexios is the one who buys their drinks, wine from gardens that he _hopes_ aren’t remotely in the vicinity of Markus’.

“You really didn’t have too.” Brasidas mutters, taking the wine skin with care. It had cost them a pretty penny considering it was on an island and not the best climate for wine.

“It is fine. A toast to us.” Alexios grins at Brasidas and raises his wine skin.

“To us, and our future together.” Brasidas says and knocks their skins together, spilling a few mouthfuls. He laughs and then downs several gulps.

Alexios takes his own drink more slowly, swallowing and tasting the sweet and sour of the grapes. The strong tang of alcohol. He shivers at the way Brasidas’ throat shines in the morning light and where red-purple liquid has spilled. “You look like a warrior from battle.” He growls and tugs the wine skin away so the contents don’t fly again, kissing and licking up each slip of liquid across dark soft skin.

“Fuck, Alexios,” Brasidas groans, but has no other arguments, letting his free hand land on Alexios’ head and arching his neck to allow him to clean him, “In public?” He asks against a heavy exhale.

“Anywhere I can have you. I am still upset we had no time to make our love in my home.” Alexios whispers, biting one last time at the edge of Brasidas’ chin where he is practically covered in hair.

“Hmm, soon, beloved.” Brasidas murmurs.

“Good, now let us finish this somewhere else. Before the guards come to kick us out.” Alexios says, having seen the way some look scandalized at his public acts. Perhaps if he was less of who he is, he too would be scandalized. He offers Brasidas a hand out of impulse, from former softer lovers, and holds by his decision even with the nerves suddenly eating him.

“Finish what exactly?” Brasidas teases. He _accepts_ the hand. Takes it with his own and walks with Alexios as if a big spartan soldier holding hands like children isn’t a possible humiliation in it’s own right.

Alexios has to remember what exactly they are discussing after that shock. He swallows and says, hoping Brasidas cannot hear the emotion behind it, “The drink of course. We can’t go to my mother’s looking like debauched men.”

“Hmm, but you look so good debauched.” Brasidas replies.

Clearing his throat Alexios bites down his impulsive smile, “Do I now?”

“You do. You very much do look good anywhere in anything.” Brasidas admits, rubbing his wine skin at the shorn hair against Alexios’ forehead.

And Alexios, Alexios is left a little speechless. By the time they actually reach an isolated portion of land it’s been too long to say anything and so they drink companionably.

 

 

“Alexios!” Myrrine practically swallows Alexios in a hug when he shows up. She pulls back just after a moment, “I thought something had happened! You were gone for much longer and if it wasn’t for the Captain coming to tell me of your arrival...and your crew making so much noise.” She adds dryly.

“Ah Mater, it’s okay. Everything went off without a single problem.” Alexios smiles, and then remembers Brasidas’ right next to him.

Which is to say, Myrrine eyes catch Brasidas’ and they widen before she puts on a carefully polite smile, “Ah, you, I know you. Brasidas, yes?”

“Yes, and you are Myrrine. What was done to your family was a tragedy.” Brasidas says with heartfelt conviction.

“Why thank you, I didn’t realize Sparta still cared. I assume that is why you are here?” Myrrine says, her gaze drifting to the sea and towards where Sparta lay invisible and far, far, beyond a mortals sight at this distance.

“...Partially.” Brasidas says, tone confused and glances at Alexios.

Alexios grimaces, eyes flinching for a moment, “I had not had time to discuss it with her. I had no idea if you would be back,” He admits a little more softly, then he straightens his shoulders and says, “Mother I and Brasidas are...” He trails off not sure suddenly of the proper word.

“Partners.” Brasidas adds, his fingers catching on Alexios side opposite him, “We have been together for months.”

“That is a surprise.” Myrrine murmurs before smiling at Alexios, and then turning a raised brow on Brasidas, “If you hurt my son I will gut you. Our family has gone through enough.”

“Of course,” Brasidas says, bowing his head.

Alexios rubs at his nose, “Please, I can handle myself, mother.” He sighs at her determined stare and nods towards the coast, “I have practically massacred their military. Their leader should be around soon.”

“Yes, I suspect you should be able to conquer them by now. But they will fight by the seas.” Myrrine murmurs. “I shall go with you, I have handled affairs here.”

Alexios blinks, and then blinks again, “Are you—I thought you had much to do here?”

“I can’t exactly leave my son to fight my battles, you’ve fought quite enough. I would have joined you if it hadn’t risked these lands, but with their military might gone, my successor should be able to handle the rest.” Myrrine says and then starts walking, “I assume your ship is the one with the eagle sails?”

With a flush, Alexios nods, and stares after her departing form, “I can’t believe she just invited herself to my ship. I didn’t even get to deny her!”

“That is a mother for you. Or a father.” Brasidas says dryly, “Wait until we have children.” He adds conspiratorially.

Alexios sputters and heat fills him at the thought, his stomach tumbles.

The bastard, Brasidas grins smugly as if he knows exactly what he’s done, and then, _then_ he walks away.

 

“Aye, welcome back Commander, it appears we have a...guest.” Barnabas as usual fails at whispering the last word, turning it more into a hissed shout.

Alexios winces and smiles at his mother, “Welcome to the Adrestia, Myrrine, my mother,” He adds pointedly for the crews and Barnabas’ benefit, “Barnabas graciously let’s me command it.”

The crew boos, shouting about how they only have one commander and one leader.

“And for good reason, men!” Barnabas agrees, “Alexios, the Eagle Bearer, we follow him to the Styx itself!”

A rallying cry fills the crew.

Alexios rubs at his nose and hides a smile. Feels a hint of pride at his crew, the look his mother is giving him, but even better than all that is the pride in Brasidas’ eyes and the...lust? Love? Both? In them.

“Aye! Let us go!” Alexios roars, “To conquer those cultist scum!”

With loud bangs of fist to wood and chests, they’re off.

 

Each ship crumbles under the might of Adrestia. Alexios turns the wheel towards the final ship.

“The cultist will be on that one,” Myrrine says, her hair is windswept. Torn across her left arm is the remains of her sleeve, where an arrow nicked her.

Brasidas nods, on the other side of Alexios, Barnabas has suspiciously decided to take a few steps to the back rather than staying at Alexios side like usual. “We have destroyed all their ships in good time. No matter if they try to run now they will not escape.”

“We will make certain of it.” Myrrine murmurs with heat in her voice.

“Rowers!” Alexios calls, and after all this time they know, pushing the ship to it’s limits.

Before the Cultist’s ship can even fire their arrows, Adrestia has slammed into it’s side. Crushing wood under it’s ram, and sending several of the enemies into the ocean below.

“We can board.” Brasidas suddenly says, the other ship isn’t moving at all still shaken by the severe blow.

“Just what I was thinking.” Myrrine grins, “You picked a good man, Alexios.” She says.

Alexios glances at them both, eyebrows raised, “That sounds incredibly reckless. Malaka, I can’t believe _I_ am being the responsible one here.”

“You would look good in the King’s robes,” Brasidas idly says.

Somehow Alexios gets distracted from actually fighting them both about their plan. Instead he finds himself in a heated kiss, that leaves both Brasidas and Alexios breathless. Distantly, he can still hear shouting in the background.

When they finally pull up for air, Barnabas clears his throat, “Commander, your mother has gone on ahead, said something about not wanting to wait for your Eros gifted libido to cool down.”

Alexios groans and presses his forehead against Brasidas’ shoulder, “You two will be the death of me.”

“Hmm, but what a good death, no?” Brasidas teases, palming Alexios’ ass under his skirt, and then pulling him forward. “Let us go destroy those Gods-forsaken bastards.” He whispers, “Then I would like to fuck you within an inch of your life.”

Alexios lips part and he’s lucky that his combat skills are almost instinct now. Dodging under several arrows, the pair part in different directions. Without any difficulty Alexios jumps up onto the railing of his ship and off, flips, and lands onto the Cultist’s ship.

Faintly Myrrine’s cries are audible, all violent and wrathful, so at least she is not injured or hurt.

Not long after the roar of Brasidas charging, and the flash of his red armor, is visible and audible.

“I better get started, Ikaros.” Alexios mutters to himself and Ikaros, and faintly the sound of an eagle in the distance can be heard. He pulls out his staff and with surprise on his side obliterates the closest man fighting one of his own crew. A twirl, sends the enemy to the ground, another spin and Alexios crushes the man’s skull with the end of his staff.

“The Commander is with us!” Yells one of Alexios’ Captains, and his crew fights twice as hard.

Twice before Alexios can reach them, enemies fall to his crew’s blade. Then he collides with the Cultist himself.

“You think you can destroy what we are? You are a fool!” The Cultist shouts, and starts attacking Alexios in rapid swings.

With his staff slower in speed than his sword, Alexios has little room to maneuver. Dodging, and sidestepping, blocking when he can. He earns a few grazes for his troubles and he tumbles away from a hard blow that cracks the crumbling wood underneath their feet.

“All you can do is dodge, Eagle Bearer?!” The Cultist roars.

Alexios dodges again, and quickly switches out his staff for his bow. In one moment to the next his eyes _glow_ gold, his arrow shines to his eyes, and the Cultist’s head. Once he lets go of the arrow it is almost as if he is melding with Ikaros. His _Predator Shot_ slices through Cultists eye and into his brain.

Not one to leave things to chance, Alexios already has his staff out once more when he reaches the falling body and slams the blunt end twice against the chest, and twice more against the Cultist’s head. Blood and organs splatter but Alexios does not mind so much—it is better to have bits and pieces than have a Cultist somehow survive their killing. He already had _one_ Cultist run to save a woman’s child who clearly had been indoctrinated.

“Well done,” Brasidas says, appearing behind Alexios as if a shadow. He grins and is bloody but from the looks of it it’s not his own.

“Ah, well I had to gain my reward, no?” Alexios teases, winking.

“Oh, reward? What reward was that?” Brasidas asks, taking a step forward.

Alexios raises a brow, “If I remember clearly it was getting to fuck you.” His own feet leading him one pace towards the other man.

“Fuck me? I don’t think I remember saying those words.” Brasidas takes another step forward.

They are close now, barely inches apart.

“Really? Are you too proud to take it, Brasidas? A spartan who can not handle another’s spear is a poor one.” Alexios murmurs against Brasidas’ lips.

“Hmm, perhaps...” Brasidas starts.

Heart hammering, Alexios’ eyes widen, is this—is this!

“Zeus strike me here and now, boys come abroad before that ship breaks any further!” Myrrine yells, holding onto to the railing of Adrestia with one hand and holding out another towards them.

Brasidas scowls, before the expression is wiped from his face and he kisses Alexios desperately and with emotion, “I promised.” He whispers.

Alexios can barely respond to the kiss but nods, and follows in a daze. Maybe his future isn’t going to be one endless wait for another man.

 

“I should head back to Sparta, and discuss our situation. This was wonderful, my son.” Myrrine tells them on the ship. She kisses his cheek and then holds out her arm for Brasidas to clasp, “Do not think that threat was idle, do not hurt my child or I will break you.” She says sternly.

“Yes, understood.” Brasidas says with humor in his voice.

“Mother.” Alexios groans, but he still feels a warmth in his heart. His mother, threatening his love interests. Now if that isn’t a childhood dream come true what is? Of course he had been ten at the time and interested in a boy twice his age, more a man truly, but...well, it’s still nice.

Myrrine smiles at him, and then leaves them alone.

“I suppose while she’s here I can’t make you scream my name to the Gods?” Brasidas asks lowly, so the crew, repairing and separating the spoils of their treasure, won’t hear.

“It will be _you_ who screams to the Olympia, and no. Unfortunately.” Alexios sighs, he’s never thought he wouldn’t want family nearby but right now when he wants to ruin Brasidas, and have the same done to him...He would prefer if his mother wasn’t around for at least three hours.

“I will have to return as well. But we should discuss what I wanted too before I go.” Brasidas looks around and winces.

Ah, the conversation that would bring good news, or so Brasidas had told Alexios previously. Alexios swallows, arousal diminishing at that, and lets his gaze wander to his men, “Not a preferable location for private conversations?”

“Not this one, it is between you and I after all.” Brasidas also looks like the simmering heat is dimming. “I _promise_ I will return.” He adds holding Alexios by the shoulders and looking into his eyes.

“I will promise to wait.” Slips out of Alexios’ mouth before he can censor himself. But the lip-bruising kiss he gets for the promise makes it worth it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's story once again got away with them, give me half an hour to a few hours and the rest of the chapters should be posted. (Because I was determined to finish this story before I made another one of the 'woops looks like it got longer' a/ns)
> 
> I cut off Chapter six short because incase anyone doesn't want to read the porn, but chapter eight has some moments of sex in it so...that didn't pan out. Either way.
> 
> Enjoy Chapter Six!

Both Myrrine and Brasidas disembark at the same location. Lakonia, which might as well be Sparta. He watches them disembark with a forlorn ache, and settles himself for the long haul. He has much to do before properly landing and visiting his once home.

“Aye, lad you’ll see them again.” Barnabas says, clasping Alexios’ shoulder, “But it is fortunate no? Both them and your sister alive. And your, ah, father.”

“You’re more of a father to me than that man,” Alexios says dryly, and means it a little more than he should.  
Unfortunately that causes Barnabas’ whole face to crinkle up and a heartfelt hug that lasts _far_ too long.

“Dammit, Barnabas, let me go!” Alexios growls at his crew who all seem too ‘busy’ on maintenance (the sail is _fine_ ) to pull the crying man off of their Commander. “Perhaps an Uncle in truth.” He tries which only makes Barnabas wail something like “Uncle to the Eagle Bearer!”

 

From Lakonia, Alexios searches out the Cultists on the sea. There are plenty left, and he strikes them down one by one. It’s not quite enough, but the more they crumble the easier it will be in the future.

After all, what could save a fly caught in a web then cutting the strings holding the whole thing up. At the very least, it a soothing balm to his fury and bitterness, and the supplies, armor, weapons, and Drachmae are all quite worth it. Especially the armor and weapons that gleam with a golden light similar to his spear but not quite.

The Seas are truly and utterly free of the Cultists, Alexios is sure of that, or at least the leaders of the Sea Branch. He has torn them asunder, and he doubts even Poseidon could have saved them from Alexios’ own determination and fury.

Large swaths of land and sea are crossed in his attempt to stifle other parts of the Cult.

So, perhaps he should have expected this.

This being, “Kassandra.” Alexios swallows around the dryness in his throat. He’s surprised, shocked, and _happy_ to see her.

“...I told you to stop calling me that, but you don’t listen, do you?” Kassandra walks alone and her eyes are furious narrowed slits, “What do you think you are doing? I told you to leave me and my business alone!”

“I’m taking vengeance for our family! I’m trying to save you.” Alexios bites back, a little sharper than necessary, but dammit he wants his little sister back. Even now where she could cut him down she is stunning and his heart aches full of love and sorrow.

“Vengeance? By destroying your sister’s tools to take her own blood from Sparta?” Kassandra hisses, unsheathing her sword and pointing it at Alexios.

“They’re controlling you!” Alexios stands his ground, feeling sweat gather at the back of his neck under his loose hair, they’re both skilled in their own right but he isn’t sure if he could fight Kassandra for the kill. Which means death, considering they are at the very least on the same level, any Mercenary knows that.

“Controlling me? You and your preposterous theories!” Kassandra yells, violently raising her sword into the air and snapping it back down in a quick second to point back at Alexios. “And what proof do you have?! Nothing, just my dead Captains.”

“Do you know what they were doing?” Alexios growls back, “The slavers? The vicious apathy and desire for coin?”

The sword shakes for a moment, and a brief moment of guilt flickers across Kassandra’s face before she sneers, “The world is pain, those who cannot stand up must be walked upon. There is no room for them in this world.” She snaps.

“Truly? No place at all? Would they have said the same if you died? Did you know they took you from our mother? Stripped you from her while she wailed for her child back.” Alexios digs in, and sees the cracks appear, continuing in a hurried voice while the blade shakes far too close to his throat for comfort. “She already thought she had lost me. Imagine what it must have felt like knowing you were a hurt baby and dying while she raced to have you healed. Only to learn years, decades later that you were alive--”

“ENOUGH!” Kassandra shouts, the blade flashes in the sunlight and slams into a rock outcrop, making the stone splinter with the strength behind it and break the sword in half. “Enough!” She breathes, grasping her knees and gasping for breath. “It is not true!” She mutters tears welling against her lashes. “You lie.” She continues, fear coating her voice.

“Why would I? All I want is my sister back. You can do what you want as long as it’s not with the cult.” Alexios says, hesitantly and rubs at his neck. There’s a sting that’s shallow enough that he does not worry about it. More important is his sister.

“Just that? Just the Cult.” A broken laugh and she wipes at her face with quick swipes, “Fuck you, and fuck mater, and fuck pater.”

“Already did that.” Slips out of Alexios mouth before he can censor himself.

The stunned and horrified look on Kassandra’s face is almost worth the slip and embarrassment.

“I mean that I fucked someone-else’s pater, and killed their mater.” Alexios quickly says, waving his hands.

“Oh, that makes it _better_?!” Kassandra’s shock seems to have doused her anger and sadness, she laughs in a way that Alexios has never heard before, “I thought _I_ was the fucked up one in this family.”

“We are all fucked up, Sister.” Alexios says, hesitantly taking a step forward.

Kassandra raises her brows and points at his forehead, “I disagree.”

Alexios scowls, okay yes the hair hasn’t fully grown back but, “Already an annoying little sister.” He says, with too much fondness in his tone.

Kassandra looks surprised, before she scowls, “I still think you are full of shit.”

“Takes one to know one.” Alexios retorts.

Somehow the resulting hand to hand brawl is not unexpected. At least they end up panting on the ground, laughing, bruised, and Kassandra clasping her hand with Alexios’.

“I will think on it.” Kassandra says.

“And the cult?” Alexios asks, hopefully.

“Oh, I think I will take some time and learn the truth.” Which sounds a little...worrying, but Kassandra looks determined.

So, Alexios leaves it for now, “At least be careful.”

Kassandra snorts and slaps at his arm, “As if this family knows the meaning of the word.”

Alexios laughs in delight, _Family_ , and when Kassandra blushes he just grins at her until she gives a small smile back—with a little too much teeth, but they will work on that.

 

They part ways, not that Alexios wants too, but, it is for the best. No need to suffocate his own sister into sticking with the men who broke their family apart. Instead of worrying, too much, for her, he returns to his missions, clearing out an assortment of legendary beasts and gaining a few new scars. And a few new pelts.

Alexios is most disappointed in killing the white Lion. It is majestic and beautiful, an animal not meant for death, but it is what Artemis’ daughters asked for so he kills it quickly and painlessly as possible. Which considering how large it is, is a feat in itself.

Weeks pass in a flurry of activity, inbetween the great hunts, he has little assignments that give him that strange blue metal called _O_ _richalcum_ , and refining and refurbishing his own set of gear.

 

Then, one day, a long tumultuous one, Alexios finally arrives in Lakonia’s eastern port. His ship needs repairs, and all he wants to do is rest somewhere warm and where Ikaros can keep an eye out (the eagle tends to take naps and rarely sleeps for more than an hour at a time). When he feels someone behind him and a hand clamping on his shoulder lightly. His first instinct is to go to his sword, but Ikaros would not have failed him like this. No, this must be a friend or at least a non threat.

What he expects is nothing like who he sees. Alexios stares in surprise.

“Is it that shocking that I kept my word?” Brasidas asks, chuckling lowly in a way that sets fire to Alexios chest, and loins.

“Y-no, I mean, fuck come here.” Alexios growls out the last words and pulls Brasidas into a liplock.

Brasidas moans and goes pliant under his ministrations, hands clasped weakly around Alexios’ waist. His gasps of breath delicious until--

“Come on, are you not a spartan?” Alexios pulls back to hiss, wanting the challenge that Brasidas brings to their romance.

“Ha,” Brasidas licks at his swollen lips and the fading bite mark there, “Not anymore, but I am still a warrior.” Brasidas’ doesn’t give time for Alexios to process that surprise, this kiss is truly in Brasidas’ in control.

Soon it’s hard to think other than the kissing and sucking on tongues, their bodies grinding futilely against armor. “Fuck me.” Alexios groans, “Fuck me until I scream your name to Eros himself.”

“Gladly. But not here.” Brasidas huffs, resting his forehead against Alexios’, his lips are far too plush and swollen it makes Alexios think of his cock sliding between them.

“Then where exactly? It’s not exactly like I have a house nearby.” Alexios almost regrets that when Brasidas’ grins at him. But following him is almost too natural.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this chapter, it's hot, it's sexy. I adore it. I adore Brasidas and Alexios.
> 
> I'm so god damn proud of myself.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Rimming, Implied Watersports, Creampie, Mouth to Ass and Ass to Mouth.  
> I'm pretty sure I'm forgetting a few but, you know. It's a lot of porn okay?
> 
> Enjoy! One more chapter!

A...house. The man leads Alexios to a house. It is near the coast, has several exits—some hidden and others not so hidden. And before he can properly question all of this; Brasidas is pulling him through one of the doors they had avoided through the tour and it’s...a bedroom.

With candles merrily burning and blades strewn across the walls, and a bed that has actual gold coins on it.

“Gold really?” Alexios laughs at Brasidas’ sheepish expression.

“You are a mercenary, are you not?” Brasidas pulls Alexios towards the bed and with one sweep of the blanket pulls the gold coins off and thankfully the blanket away from any candles.

“You know me very well.” Alexios agrees. He can read the underlying message, this home was built by Brasidas, maybe not by his own hands, but the wood is still new, the weapons fresh and cleaned. The hidden exits? For a Mercenary who enjoys stealth, and the fact that there are enough bedrooms in the house for several more people. Unless he’s reading into it too much-- “I cannot live here all the time.” He says, letting Brasidas push him onto the bed and falling splayed out.

“Hmm, no, I was thinking we could help your mother regain her estate and call this home when you are tired of sleeping in the cramped quarters of that ship. And of course sex.” Brasidas says and his chest armor falls away too easily as if he had intentionally left it half undone.

Words fail him, Alexios stares hungrily at brown skin, pecs that move with each inhale, a belly that would make poets weep. His cock is aching inside of his loincloth and he wants to see everything, “Take it all off.” He commands.

Brasidas inhales sharply, “I thought you would never ask.” And the skirt falls with his loin cloth just as easily as his chest piece. His flaccid cock and balls swinging, foreskin partially moved back, and…

“I may need more prep than I thought.” Alexios murmurs, breathlessly. His eyes can’t stop scanning Brasidas’ body from his cock that’s starting to rise, to his balls to his thighs; what it would be like to be squeezed by those thighs, and his calves and even his still sandal-ed feet.

“Hmm,” Brasidas stalks towards the bed, his hard cock swinging and big balls making an impression. His figure is all warrior and Alexios is solely focused on this man, the love of his life he realizes in an inane moment of passing thought, and then his love (how is it so easy to think that now?) climbs over him and starts placing kisses across his forehead, his cheeks, and then his lips. “I would do many things for you Alexios the Eagle Bearer.” He whispers.

“And I you.” Alexios replies, the next few minutes are a slow tease.

Careful and almost reverent, Brasidas peels Alexios out of his armor, first his hood that he unknots from Alexios’ chest piece, a kiss to each side of Alexios neck where his shoulders meet neck.

“Brasidas.” Alexios sighs, but he can’t complain too much. This is. Fuck, to be worshiped like Eros himself, it’s humbling and everything that he didn’t know he wanted.

“Alexios.” Brasidas says softly, earnestly. A strong calloused grip on Alexios’ hands to pull them close to their faces. He kisses each fingertip on the right hand before removing Alexios’ bracers, and then kisses his palm pressing it against his cheek. “Alexios.” His expression is earnest and says everything.

Alexios groans. He’s so hard it hurts, and he wants to fuck, but this is. Perfect.

Again, just like the right hand, Brasidas kisses each finger, and once the bracer is removed, Alexios’ palm. His kisses fall down across his arm, his bicep, and with measured movements that are clearly familiar to different chest pieces, and opens Alexios chest to his kisses. And tongue.

“Zeus’ balls!” Alexios hands fly to Brasidas’ head and groans in pleasure at the suction on his pec. The tongue roaming his skin and every little bite and nip and tease.

“Shhh,” Brasidas chuckles into the skin, “I am trying to worship you. You are ruining the moment.”

“You ruined me!” Alexios huffs amused, and then spreads his legs, “Come, fuck me full of your seed and ruin me further.”

Rolling his forehead against Alexios chest, Brasidas groans, “Damn you, Mercenary. Alright.” He still kisses his way down Alexios’ treasure trail before pulling off Alexios’ skirt and loin cloth. Looking pleased at Alexios strong erection. “A manhood to be proud of.” He murmurs before sucking the head inside his mouth.

Alexios gasps, fingers twisting in Brasidas’ short hair and only Brasidas’ hands on his hips stop him from fucking the man’s face. “Fuck, Brasidas, fuck!”

Humming Brasidas’ lips turn into a half formed smirk at Alexios’ renewed yells.

“That humming, Eros, gods!” Alexios cries out, knees shaking under the strain of Brasidas’ strength. It would be so easy to use his inner strength that lets him fight like a hundred men instead of one on the battlefield, but Alexios does not. Not when this feels magnificent. His cockhead is filling him with bliss the warm wet heat from Brasidas’ mouth, the vibrations.

Finally, sadly, Brasidas stops and kisses Alexios twitching cock head softly, then his two balls, and then his thighs.

Alexios breaths through it all, flushed from the exertion and the soft kisses to his loins and legs. When Brasidas unlaces his sandals and kisses his feet, he groans and covers his face with his arm, “Enough already, you’ve made your point.”

“Have I?’ Brasidas asks, raising a brow. “I don’t think I have, and his beard is scratching against Alexios’ skin when he kisses Alexios’ ankle and trails back up painfully slowly; kissing his knees, his thighs again, his balls, his taint—his _asshole_ , “Apollo’s Staff!” Alexios yelps in surprise at that one-his cock, and up his belly—making a right mess of both of Alexios nipples. Sloppy and wet and half red from bite and beard. He has beard burn across his belly too scratchy and sweet.

Brasidas finally reaches his lips and kisses him one final time, “I would do anything for you, Alexios, you do not understand if you think this would ever be enough. That I wouldn’t worship every part of your for hours, days, weeks.” With that heavy statement his fingers find Alexios mouth and.

And Alexios suckles them in without complaint. No- with fervor, desperately wanting to show the same reverence. Needing to show his heart bare just as Brasidas has just done.

They are strong firm calloused tips rubbing against the soft insides. Practically exploring Alexios’ mouth.

Every inch of Brasidas’ two fingers get licked and sucked, played with until Alexios can feel Brasidas’ dick throbbing against his own. The wet slide of their foreskins and cockheads rubbing against eachother. He moans around the fingers when they reach his throat.

“Fuck, Alexios.” Brasidas groans. He thrusts in and out of Alexios’ mouth and his hips rock so their cocks slick together in ecstasy that makes both men moan loudly.

Alexios slurps around the fingers, pulling his mouth away and feels the slick covered tips settle against his chin, “Open me, Brasidas.”

Those fingers do as they’re told, sliding between Alexios’ cheeks to toy with the rim, stretching him on two immediately. The pain is a sharp sort of ache but the pleasure that follows makes Alexios spread his legs wide and shiver. “Faster.” Alexios gasps.

“Shhh, I already pained you, clearly someone has been rather chaste with themselves.” Brasidas teases, and slows his thrusting pace, opening Alexios with a care that makes Alexios feel bare once again.

“You find time alone when you’re fighting ferocious, ah,” Alexios moans at a particularly good thrust that makes his walls clench around those thick fingers, “ah, beasts, and, ah, dealing with, a—mercenary life, keep doing that.” His legs spread wider, and raises his knees. This pose feels lewd but at the same time the look on Brasidas’ face is worth a little embarrassment.

Brasidas’ cock jumps, his chest glistening in the candle light. “I am going to fuck you and seed you well, Alexios.”

Even if Alexios cannot, as far as he’s aware, get pregnant the thought of Brasidas’ seed gets his balls pressed high against his pelvis, and his cock jerking and leaking precum.

Foreskin pulled back to the edge of his crown, Brasidas’ cockhead presses plush and soft against Alexios’ winking hole.

“Ngh, Dammit, Brasidas!” Alexios groans, valiantly trying to push back and impale himself on Brasidas’ manhood.

“Do you want it, Alexios? It looks like your ass craves me, but I am unsure.” Suddenly coy, Brasidas’ grim face is just shy of a smirk. His eyes glinting in the candlelight.

“Yes! Yes, I need you, inside of me. Right now!” Alexios wraps his legs around Brasidas’ waist and pulls him close. “Fuck me or I will roll us over and fuck into _you_.”

Brasidas groans and his hips hitch, the tip of his cock pressing into Alexios which causes another little gasp from both of them. “I would gladly lay under you.” He says, and fucks into Alexios before the man can reply.

The stretch is wonderful, pleasure lights up Alexios’ hole and body. His legs tremble around Brasidas. His cock jerks and leaks. “Brasidas,” Alexios has to swallow the rest of his words when the man himself kisses him, their hairy chests bumping against eachother.

Brasidas fucks slow and easy, like a long siege, the man makes Alexios’ hole open for him, and Alexios’ legs tighten with each minute that passes.

“Brasidas, _fuck me like the spartan you are_.” Alexios growls.

“I will, beloved, I will.” Brasidas laughs and his hands are suddenly stretching out Alexios’ legs lewdly, and looking down at his entrance, “So pink and pretty, wet with your saliva. Absolutely a mess, Eagle Bearer.” He murmurs. Then he pulls out till the tip of his cock is all that’s left in Alexios’ suddenly achingly empty hole. A second later he’s pummeling into Alexios, fucking him with a speed that makes the bed shake, Alexios’ body move with each thrust. “I will fuck you until you and I visit the Styx and even after.” Brasidas growls against Alexios’ mouth. His hand squeezes tightly, bruisingly, on Alexios’ thigh.

Alexios moans in agreement, his hole feels so _good_ , wrecked in a way that he hasn’t felt in a very long time. His cock jerks and spills precum with each hard thrust. His hands find their way to Brasidas’ muscular shoulders. Then to his fuckable ass. “Fuck me, forever!” He yells.

“Shout it, Alexios,” Brasidas says.

In that moment, Alexios has a faint memory of shouting in this context but that isn’t important, all that’s important is the bliss with each stretch of his hole, every slick wet sound coming from their bodies joining. The heavy slap of Brasidas’ balls, “Fuck me Brasidas! Fuck me forever!” He shouts.

With a roar, Brasidas claims Alexios’ mouth and when he cums deep inside, filling Alexios with shot after shot of hot liquid, Alexios cums as well, seed coating their bellies and their tongues slowing with each throb of their dicks.

“Fuck,” Alexios whispers, eyes on Brasidas’ own.

“Fuck indeed.” Brasidas laughs and kisses Alexios again. They lay against eachother, their fluids warm and sticky and perfect. Content.

Soon enough though Alexios’ hands remember where they are and his fingers trail to Brasidas’ asshole. He does mean to ask, truly, but it feels good. The haze of orgasm and the look in Brasidas’ eyes when Alexios starts stroking his hole, well, he keeps touching. Keeps placing soft strokes and pressing inward. Without lube he has to be slow and methodical but they’re still recovering; even as Brasidas’ half hard cock twitches inside of him and makes them gasp against eachother’s slick wet lips.

Brasidas’ beard feels good against his chin and neck when the man starts trailing kisses down and up. Soon there are more than a few heavy bruises on Alexios’ neck. Their hips rocking languidly with Brasidas’ cock still plugging Alexios’ cum filled hole and his own hole being treated to a slow opening.

For his part, Alexios’ walls squeeze with pleasure and his cock is firming up again. He wants and Brasidas doesn’t seem to mind. “Suckle for me.” He says meaning his hands, but dammit if Brasidas doesn’t go straight for his nipples sucking painfully sharply. Alexios groans and his body spasms in pleasure, his cock jerking almost agonizingly with how quickly and how much sensation is felt in that one moment.

“Ah, sorry.” Brasidas chuckles smearing his soaked lips against Alexios heaving pec, “I thought you wanted me to treat your tits like a woman’s.”

With a growl, Alexios rolls them over, only pausing to gasp in unison with Brasidas when his cock leaves his hole. Cum drips for just a few seconds across Brasidas’ balls before he tenses his muscles to keep the warm fluid inside.

“Fuck me.” Brasidas groans his hands going to Alexios’ ass and prodding at the tight pucker, “You really are keeping all of me inside.”

“Yes to both of those statement.” Alexios says dryly, and then with a little more effort than he usually needs (that orgasm really tired him out) he pushes Brasidas’ legs up, admires the view for just a moment; the man’s spread on the bed, wet with fluids, legs spread and ass, cock and balls perfectly view-able. Before he leans forward and kisses Brasidas’ hole.

Brasidas groans in embarrassment and covers his face.

“Ah, do you not like to be worshiped yourself, beloved?” Alexios asks teasingly and licks against the hole before Brasidas’ can respond.

Moaning, Brasidas trembles, shaking more than Alexios would expect from a little tongue.

Again, and again Alexios licks suck on the delicate skin, opening Brasidas’ tight hole and soft walls.

“Ah, fuck, Alexios, Alexios!” Brasidas groans, his hands finding Alexios’ braids and tugging on them, “Gentle, Gentle, this is my first. I mean,” He heaves a groan when Alexios’ ministrations only grow more fevered.

“This,” Alexios pants, chin slick and the hole in front of him glistening prettily and barely parted even after all his work, “This is your first with a man? With me? You are allowing this?” He can barely speak, his cock is so hard it hurts and he will stop if Brasidas doesn’t want this, but god does he _need_ this, crave to be the first that fills Brasidas with seed.

“For you, Alexios, every part of my body.” Brasidas grunts when Alexios leans forward too fast, pushing his legs up against his chest.

Alexios kisses Brasidas soundly, their tongues twining, and his cock slapping against Brasidas’ hole. When they pull apart this time it is slow and Alexios rests his forehead against Brasidas’, “I will worship you like no other. Even Eros himself will be jealous.” He whispers the last part, he might be reckless but he’s not stupid enough to truly anger a God.

A strained chuckle leaves Brasidas, still bent as he is, and he smiles with love shining out of his warm brown eyes. “I expected nothing less my Eagle.”

Exhaling, Alexios nods, and sucks his own fingers into his mouth, giving a show to Brasidas, and flicking his tongue between his fingers.

Brasidas groans and there’s a wet slap as his cock thumps against his belly, his big balls heavy against the bottom of his shaft pulse with need. “I would have your mouth on me day and night.” He mutters, and his hands hesitantly press on his asscheeks between their bodies, and he says, “I could, spread myself for you, Alexios. Please, just, give me your tongue once again.”

“As you wish.” Alexios murmurs and takes a moment to just gaze at Brasidas’ spread hole. Flexing under his gaze, Brasidas’ fingertips white with nerves, and his chest and cheeks barely visibly flushed.

“Alexios.” Brasidas grumbles, hands pulling away from his ass.

“No, let me gaze, you are beautiful here. I just want to make sure I never forget you like this. Spreading yourself for your Eagle.” Alexios clamps his hands on Brasidas’ own and helps him show off his hole.

After a few moments, it’s so pretty Alexios can’t help giving it several tonguings, making his lover moan and muscular legs tremble.

“Yes, please, Alexios. Your tongue is—Ngh,” Brasidas seems to lose his speech at that point whimpering out _yes_ and _please_ over and over. His cock slapping wetly with each lewd suction and sound that Alexios’ tongue makes against and in his hole.

Alexios groans kissing the corners of Brasidas’ slowly gaping rim. He could do this for days. Brasidas tastes good to him or perhaps he’s biased, either way he adores the smell and taste, the flexing of the soft skin against his tongue. The soft insides which open for him as if welcoming every single touch. Almost too smoothly his fingers slide into join his tongue.

Brasidas gasps for breath when he’s breached by something a littler firmer than a soft muscle, his legs almost fall but Alexios catches them with one hand by the ankle. He pauses his ministrations only to gaze at the pleasing sight.

Held like poultry by the legs, his ass the only thing visible, Brasidas’ looks appetizing this way. Like a sexual toy.

“Alexios?” Brasidas pants, tilting his head to gaze at him. His eyes are blown wide and he looks half ready to keel over. He is wondrous.

“I am just admiring you, once again.” Alexios admits, laughing at Brasidas’ huff of annoyance. For a man who likes making Alexios feel like an apple crushed to mush, he seems unable to handle the reverse. Then he returns his fingers, watching them stretch Brasidas’ untouched hole, widening it ever more with thickeness as he reaches his knuckles.

Minutes pass with the memorizing action. Brasidas groaning and begging for more, to be filled by more fingers, for Alexios’ cock. By the third finger Alexios cannot wait any longer and spits in his hand to add to the mess of tacky cum and newly wet precum on his cock. Then pauses. No, he does not want to fuck Brasidas like a whore who’s gaping can take this. He doesn’t want to _hurt_ Brasidas.

No matter how pretty Brasidas sounds, “Alexios, by the gods fuck me, fill me with your seed. I beg of you, your fingers are so thick, but your cock is a sword that will ruin me!” He babbles, fingers scrambling to hold his asscheeks weakly open as if to tempt Alexios further.

“I cannot wait until you are leaking my cum and marked by me.” Alexios growls and kisses Brasidas’ right ankle within his still firm grip in response.

“Then _do it!_ ” Brasidas orders.

How can Alexios disobey? He reaches for his discarded armor and quickly looks for the olive oil he keeps on hand for...proper time alone when he doesn’t want his hand to be too rough against his cock, and practically spills it one handed onto his cock and Brasidas’ ass.

Brasidas raises his hips, showing off his pretty glistening hole, and moans, “Alexios, yes, fuck me, mark me, make me yours.”

“That isn’t piss my lover.” Alexios replies, but he will have to remember that Brasidas _wants_ that. It’s not exactly his wants but the thought of marking Brasidas like that makes it appealing.

Brasidas groans half embarrassment half disappointment, “One day,” He murmurs, “You will fill me with both your seed and marking.”

That shouldn’t make Alexios’ hard cock twitch and throb so but does Alexios crave it suddenly, “Anything, I would give you anything.” He admits honestly and with a shove pushes his cock inside, gasping at the tight soft walls around his cock, clenching and trying to keep him out. “Keep me in you, my warrior.” He says.

“I-I am trying.” Brasidas shivers and his hole relaxes for a moment letting more of Alexios in before tightening once more.

Just at the edge, Alexios can feel Brasidas’ second hole, he doesn’t know if it is because the man is a virgin or if it’s another reason but the thought of reaching so deep inside of him almost makes him cum. He clamps a hand around the base of his cock and presses his lips against the calf of Brasidas’ still held leg. “Love, I will cum inside of you too soon.”

“Not yet.” Brasidas once again gains that heavy voice, like a commander on the battlefield.

“Of course,” Alexios pants rubbing his cheek against the spot he kissed moments before. “I will fuck you until that hole is filled with my cum.” He murmurs and then pulls out watching that spasming rim tighten around his cock, pulling his foreskin back onto his glans, and then fucking in.

“Yes.” Brasidas whispers, his voice cracking on another thrust. His head falls back onto the bed and his soft hot walls flex with each thrust. “Alexios, Alexios.” He starts chanting, his body shaking.

“I have barely started, love,” Alexios pants, his cock feels so good—Brasidas feels so good. It takes everything in him to keep his ass pumping, fucking into the man laying before him. “Your hole, your walls, you are like the softest silk, smooth and hot inside.”

Brasidas grunts huffing and shaking his head. His chanting paused under the assault of praise and compliments. Chest flushed and cock slapping with precum against his belly.

“You are, love, you are opening for my cock. My spear--”

Brasidas lets out a choked laugh opening his eyes, affection brimming from them. He groans and his ankles flex in Alexios’ grip. “Let me see you properly.” He gasps out.

How can Alexios say no to the man that he loves with all his heart? He kisses both legs once, twice, before setting Brasidas’ legs spread wide.

Cock flushed, balls so full and heavy that they hang even now with how desperate Brasidas clearly is. Brasidas’ eyes meet Alexios, his chest heaving, pecs sweat soaking his hairy frame. Muscles straining under Alexios’ assault.

“You are beautiful.” Alexios whispers, and before Brasidas can scuff, or ruin the moment he takes his pec in a suckling surge.

Brasidas arches off the bed, pushing his breast into Alexios mouth, his ass pulling in Alexios cock.

“Greedy and untouched.” Alexios exhales between suckling on that pert soft nipple. Biting and licking, leaving a messy trail on a perfect marking. For a desperate moment he wishes he could bite hard enough to leave a true mark, where it would scar easily. Show Brasidas how much Alexios wants him. But instead he fucks deep, pummeling Brasidas’ hole. Trading one pec for the next.

Brasidas claws at the bed, unable to form words, his body trembling. “A-Al-ex--” He cums like that, mouth falling open, his inner walls finally giving out and opening up for Alexios. Cum shoots over Alexios chest and chin, and Brasidas groans low and guttural.

The clamping spasming walls, the heat of Brasidas’ cum, the _sound_ of his lover absolutely decimated; Alexios cums deep inside, pressing Brasidas’ hips as close as possble. Pleasure fills him making it almost impossible to keep eye contact with Brasidas, but he does. Everything, he wants to remember every single detail.

Warm wet silken walls fill more and more with Alexios seed, his balls churning with each pulse that leaves his dick. “Brasidas, I love you.” He gasps and he’s not expecting the tug on his braids sending him into the man and having their teeth clack against eachother before they kiss properly.

“And I you.” Brasidas replies, shivering and his walls squeezing around Alexios’ sensitive cock. His own twitches feebly between them, sticky and wet. Perfect.

 

“I will be your partner.” Brasidas says later, ten minutes later, when Alexios cock can no longer stay hard inside him.  
Alexios has unfortunately already let Brasidas’ cum go, and it’s sticky and tacky against his balls. And Brasidas’ fingers because the insatiable man had tried putting it back into his hole. The man’s thick cock growing hard underneath them as he continued his play, but right now the focus is on those words. Partner. “For how long?” Alexios asks, meeting Brasidas’ calm eyes.

“I said, didn’t I? I would return. I have left Sparta, granted by the Kings for my diligent service.” Brasidas than laughs, “Well, King I suppose now. One was a Cultist,” He grimaces at that and then sighs, “I am free to be your Partner.”

Alexios can’t help kissing him hard and long after that statement. Bodies rocking together. It’s no surprise that they have a third orgasm right there cock against cock, smearing their cum between them.

Marking eachother.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done! oh my god. I'm so proud of myself, this was such a baby in the beginning. So much potential that I didn't even realize till now!
> 
> I love this story, though I realize it may have some plot holes and be a little all over the place because it's a rough draft. So apologies if there are any noticeable timeline plot holes.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy the end chapter!

Eventually they get up, at least after plenty of kisses and Brasidas licking up every bit of cum covering Alexios’ body.

Alexios cannot let Brasidas leave without the same treatment and kisses up softly over Brasidas’ body, and moans around his bare sore glans. Before sucking up the remaining cum and the taste of both of them. A faint part of him knows that this cock was _inside_ of him which makes it all the more delicious. Each little kiss and lick leaves a slight wet patch of his own saliva. Or a dark bruise that Alexios offers to Brasidas for the marks that the man left on his pecs, belly, and _far_ too close to the base of his cock.

Brasidas groans under his ministrations and it’s not long before he’s hard again and they cum together, messing themselves once more, while rocking together. Hips slotted, dicks pressed close together, sliding wetly, and muscular hairy bodies trembling.

“Now look what you have done.” Brasidas scolds.

“Me?” Alexios can’t keep the grin off of his face and shakes his head. His fully grown braids flying across his cheeks, “Who started the kissing--” His voice cracks on the end because his damn lover is kissing and suckling on his cum covered cock. He loses track of time for a moment and it’s only the fact that he is _sore_ that stops him from getting hard again. Though his dick has a valiant effort.

“Hmm,” Brasidas hums mouth full of cum and then shares the warm kiss. A mixture of themselves that tastes and feels perfect. Utterly decadent.

Alexios groans into the kiss, their tongues twining, the taste of salt and strong seed tacky in their mouths. When they pull apart a string of white connects their teeth until their tongues touch once more and break it. “I forgive you.” Alexios says.

This time Brasidas’ is the one who has the offended expression and scuffs before pushing Alexios towards another part of the house. Which has a well hidden bathing pool. Which must have cost a pretty penny. “Tell me the cost and I will help you--”

“Shut up Alexios, and enjoy your husband,” Brasidas stutters after the word slips his lips, but quickly rallies as if he never said it, “Partner’s generosity.”

The shock wears off, but only marginally, but Alexios has never been known to let things slide so he says, “If that is what my husband wishes.”

Why Alexios expected _not_ to be pushed into the pool, is a question for the ages.

 

They are drying off, firmly dressed now to keep their wandering hands from eachother’s more sensitive areas (Alexios has gained a line of hickey’s across his pecs that and three impressive bite marks around his nipples), is when the front door bangs open.

Both of them are ready in a moment, Alexios going for his trusty spear, and a shield on the wall that is light but strong metal. Brasidas goes for a short sword and spear; the both ready stances side to side, back to back.

A...head, no— _several_ heads drop through the door, one two—three, five? Seven. Land onto a pile and slowly form a puddle of congealing blood.

“Brother.” Kassandra, she walks in with a simple grace that makes Alexios start to understand why people watch him fight and think he is a demi-god.

Brasidas raises his weapon in front of Alexios, “You will not kill him. Who are these? More innocents?”

Alexios tenses in anticipation of an attack—he does not want to fight either Brasidas or his sister, and prays to Athena, Ares, anyone truly that they do not come to blows. Again.

Kassandra bursts into laughter, holding onto her sides, and sounding half crazed. She raises her palm up as if to say _wait_ , and continues to laugh for several minutes, “Brother you have found quite the idiot. But at least he’s protective. And a warrior. Spartan unfortunately.” Her tone turns scornful at the end and she rubs at her teary eyes. “Ah, I haven’t laughed that hard since I saw the leader of Kosmos try to fight me. She was a fool.”

“Leader?” Alexios looks down at the heads again at that, the—the leader. And who else could it be other than the woman with familiar curls. “She?!”

“Ah yes, how did you think Leon obtained power so easily? Or how I killed the previous leader without trouble?” Kassandra now leans on the wall in her golden armor. She looks every inch the Goddess she claimed to be previously. With how many cultists she killed in the time that Alexios was away...well, she might have claims to that title.

“She...killed them all? Alone?” Brasidas, glances at Alexios and drops the blades only an inch downwards.

That is at least understandable. Alexios doesn’t quite want to let his spear go either. Even though they fought eachother to a standstill. Is this what people see when he does his mercenary missions? It is odd to be on the other side of those emotions. “Well done, Kass.”

“Ugh do not call me that infernal nickname, brother.” Kassandra groans.

“But you’re my baby sister.” Alexios replies playfully, unable to hold his delight. The Cult is _gone_ , which is still somewhat stewing, his sister and lover are here and no one is dying and—it is _marvelous_.

Kassandra growls at him and Alexios barely has time to dodge a blow that would have cleaved his head. “Stay out of this Eros-besotted fool.” She yells at Brasidas.

“Kassandra!” Alexios shouts exasperated, the blows are too easy on him, or at least they _feel_ less difficult to dodge. More a spar. He clips Kassandra’s shoulder and winces at the bloom of blood that arces across her skin.

“You hit like a child!” Kassandra fires back, but her face goes from light and clenched to a dark amusement; she’s having _fun_.

That...makes it easier. He rolls to the door glancing at Brasidas with a calming gesture before he has to dodge again and out of the house. He doesn’t want to break _their_ house.

Unsurprisingly Kassandra gets the drop on him and cracks a rib when he’s grinning goofily thinking of Brasidas.

Brasidas of course joins the ‘fight’ by that point and it becomes a (unintentional, Alexios _really did not_ mean to hit Brasidas’ stomach with that mule kick) three way battle.

With a clash of swords they fall to the ground in a pile and Kassandra groans at the bottom. “Off both of you. You still smell like sex. I did not need to know my brother was such an animal!”

“It is your fault, we were perfectly fine not fighting.” Alexios mutters and dodges an elbow to the face.

Brasidas sighs and rolls onto Alexios. “Love, I will be your partner until the Styx, but perhaps. Do warn me of potential intruders to our home.”

Alexios knows his face is slack in shock. Till the Styx, he had said it before during sex, but it had been well...some rather amazing sex. To say it now...That truly is meaningful; it feels like Brasidas is always a step ahead in this relationship. And yet, Alexios cannot flatter, “Till the end of the Styx.” He agrees.

“Ugh, this is disgusting, off of me, both of you before you copulate in front of me. Or on me.” Kassandra shivers with so much revulsion that Alexios can feel it across his back.

“Then you will truly hate this.” Alexios mutters and pulls Brasidas into a sweet, sweet, kiss.

Brasidas groans and holds him close.

They ignore the yelling underneath them.

Together.

Forever.

_Partners._


End file.
